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umbralsound-xiv · 10 days

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Blame.

The first dance since our return home, i had thought Costa Del Sol to be promising... ...And it was, with the small caveat that i was to perform on a boat. I did not allow the unease to put me off a performance, but when it came time to disembark...

Lofty sighs drifted about him. Streaks of golds and pinks tinted the blues of the sky at evening’s approach while Mattisaux sprawled himself over one of the islands just offshore Costa del Sol. Legs spread wide in the lazy lapping of the sea, his head pressed back into the sand.

For possibly the first time, he sought cottons and fabric in the stead of leathers and metal; while his clothes were more breathable, his blackened blade still lounged right by his side, stabbed at a diagonal just in case.

Such peace is quickly chased away by the sound of an approaching boat, the cacophony of cheer and merry makers aboard the vessel undeniable to anyone that heard them. Pulling adjacent to the pier, the boat docks just long enough for a figure to leap from the deck, and after only the briefest of waves, tears across the wooden platform, bounding into the sand below. Chimes and coin herald his arrival, a now hefty coinpurse tucked away somewhere within the silks. Head turned, Eir stares at the boat, a little rigid and unsettled from his sudden departure. He'd barely noticed the figure in the sand, only a few fulms away…

The white noise of a boat in the distance became something that rolled his head for, gazing toward the wooden pier. The rest of him remained still and vaguely at ease, simply watching and waiting for the people to come. Then a dashing figure caught his squinting eye. As he watched, Mattisaux wondered. ‘Why are they running? Was there an issue on the boat? Everyone else seems fine. Why is that fool running toward me?’ The last thought clenched his stomach, sitting up in a hurry to avoid having his head stomped. However, when he looked back at the strange individual, opening his mouth to speak, he stopped for a decent stretch of time. “…You, Viera,” his tone was loud, abrasive, but not terribly hostile at the moment. “Just what are you running from?”

Eir Fellfrost turns his head to the voice, briefly narrowing his gaze as he weighed up his words. Silence. An uncomfortable shift of his feet, rocking his weight from one foot to the other, and back. Slowly inclining his head, Eir does eventually reply. "Nothing." Eir lied. "It is simply just nice to get my feet back on solid ground." A pause. "…Or solid enough."

...I was not running. Had i been running, i would have fled and not stopped. Though, i will admit there was some unease about being questioned...

Mattisaux waited, even patiently albeit with growing suspicious eyes. Then he, too, took his sweet time to reply, groaning to himself and picking himself up from the sand that stuck to him either way. Seeing how the other’s body was still turned away from him, Mattisaux took the liberty to circle the man, gelid eyes inspecting from ears to toes. “Mm.” A curt hum pressed his lips before he spoke. “From my experience, Viera do not act as frivolous as Miqo’te. If you are going to keep to yourself, why not say so?” Again, his eyes scrolled over the man. “You are not so spineless, are you?”

Eir Fellfrost: "Frivolous?" Eir echoed, eyes narrowed in some perplexed and mildly offended expression. "It is a poor habit to judge someone based on race alone. Because i disembark a boat, you assume me spineless?" A small roll of his eyes. "I could assume a great many things about a man found laying around in the sand."

A drunkard? Most people go to the beach with friends. Why is he alone, all the way out here?

Mattisaux Baschet: “Assume at your heart’s content.” A crooked smirk found home on his expression, gesturing a lax hand at the man and at nothing particular. “-My- assumptions do hold weight, however. You must… -enjoy- them to want to defend them so readily. Worry not though, little creature, I enjoy them as well.”

Squinting, Eir cocks his head to the side. A few moments later, he takes half a step back, but he can't stop his back from bristling just a little. "I am -married- to a Miqo'te." Lips pulled into a line, he tilts his head even further up. "Then you should know better than to judge them all the same. -Your- assumptions do not hold weight with me."

Mattisaux Baschet: “So that has happened already then? Mm… You look none the worse for wear…” He leaned forward ever so slightly while he thought aloud for a moment, eyes dropping in notice of his step back though his grin never faded. “I really ought to stop while I am ahead; you need not be so frightened over me or whatever it was that made you run. No one will snatch or take you, not with me here in the least.”

The unease in Eir's frame hadn't lessened any, though the confusion that knit his brow had doubled. Another pause. Another long, almost uncomfortable silence before he does eventually speak again. "Who are you?" Eir asks, though he clearly had his suspicions. "You seem to know of me. I cannot say the same of you." A hesitation, left purposefully vague. "…One who… Helped?"

...He knows me. Though i am not sure how, i have my assumptions. Hm. He still makes me uncomfortable, though exactly how i cannot quite put my finger on...

Mattisaux clearly seemed to be enjoying himself, much more so than in his previous lounge. “Yes, but we can forget about that. I am far more curious in you and -why- you however.” He shrugged a hand at the man. “You are terrible reserved and terribly thin.” At his leisure, he took a few steps closer, visibly sizing the other up.

Eir Fellfrost: "Why me?" Eir echoed, no less perplexed. "Why me for -what-?" His expression steels a little, if only to suppress any further words that might have tumbled free, before his gaze turns incredulous, then. "I take that you have not met so many dancers, if you think me thin. Perhaps the sunglasses are a few shades dark enough in that you cannot properly see, unless the sun has already blinded you." Holding his ground, he doesn't retreat any further, simply leveling his gaze with Mattisaux's own, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Mattisaux Baschet: “Perhaps you are right.” At what he took as the behest of the other, Mattisaux unhurriedly took his sunglasses and visor off, folding it to hook on his shirt with the cap. Then, with the naked eye, he stepped closer still for a better look. “Yes, thin. I know a few dancers, some up close and as personal as you are with your beloved. You are thin. I suppose she likes the meek, defenseless ones like the other frostbitten one. The apple never fell too far away, I suppose.”

Eir Fellfrost: "Blind, then." Eir confirms, holding his ground still. "You know little of her or anything she likes, then. Perhaps i was mistaken. I -do- know of you. Bexy has spoken of you before."

Mattisaux, being the person he was, lifted a hand to reach for one of his braids were he able. “Is that so? I -do- know that she likes you enough to bond with and I see a man who is not only thin but also has the thinnest skin.” He huffed from the nose. “Irritating that she runs her mouth about me; I can only imagine they were great things.”

...I asked once who helped us. She mentioned this man, who was not part of the company but a friend of her own. That it is perhaps best we never met in person... ...Now, i can understand why.

Before Mattisaux's hand even comes close, Eir's already three steps back, and well out of reach; and clearly braced to take more. "Protective. Loyal." Head canted to one side, it rocks to the other. "Inflammatory. Arrogant. Hypocritical." A small breath then, eyeing the man in return. "To name a few. You know precious little of me, save that i am married to Sayuri, and the predicament i was in."

His hand was left in the air as the other moved back, then brought up his face and over top his hair in a heavy sigh. “She thinks of me so well, it seems.” After rolling his eyes, he continued. “You are correct yet again, little one. I could hardly recognize you without the blood and dirt. And how dear little Sayuri was it? How she seemed so terribly broken in your arms. I can only imagine what might have happened and can only think how it could have been prevented.” An edge grew in his tone, grin replaced with a stern frown while he peered down at the man.

Eir Fellfrost: "Whatever you are imagining, it was worse." Eir speaks in almost a snap, chest puffed, back bristled. To the latter words, Eir narrows his eyes, lips pursed and downturned in a frown. He gives no verbal response.

Mattisaux Baschet: “You clearly have not a single clue what I am capable of but… I digress.” Another huff with some humor before moving on. “Mayhap -that- is why you are so unruly and up in arms when I mention something as simple as your physique. You -know- you cannot defend yourself or your beloved so you find the next,” he stepped forward with each word. “Easiest. Thing to combat me with.” Again, he reached his hand for the man. “Have you ever even tried sparring with your company? Do you even have the capacity to fight or are you so useless?”

...He does not need to know what i am doing to remedy the situation. Why would i ever tell him of such things? ...Which reminds me, i should probably seek out training again...

Eir Fellfrost: "You are friends with Bexy. I could take a guess." As soon as Mattisaux's arm even so much as moves, Eir bolts again; Backwards and then sidelong, skirting around the larger man. "I have." Eir confirms, but does not elaborate. A glare is all he offers in reply to that particular comment, before adding. "What i am capable of is no business of -yours-. Useless people do not usually live so long, unless they are extremely lucky."

Mattisaux Baschet: “What you are capable of is expressly -my- business because if you cannot defend yourself, -I- will see the worst of it -again-.” A bit of heat gradually filled his chest though he held down the worst of it. Rather than turn to face the man promptly, Mattisaux took his time, stepping deliberately closer. “You can still be useless and lucky, however, that luck -will- assuredly run dry at the worst possible moment. Unless, perhaps, you consider it lucky to have been captured in the way that you have. Taken advantage of in horrible ways. Tortured beyond belief, in ways that might possibly delight me. Spar with your company more lest you wish to try myself.”

Eir Fellfrost: "It has kept me alive for longer than you might hope to achieve." Some of Mattisaux's words prickle Eir's skin, a knot rising up into his throat which he swallows along with any words for the moment. Another long, uncomfortable stare. "I owe you gratitude for that sun, but nothing more. Have you little better to do than pry through the lives of others, that your own is so devoid of anything worthwhile?"

Mattisaux offered a lidded gaze. “Ah, I suppose you wish to go back to your slavers or some other noble ring where you can do their service and worse. I am more than certain that frozen girl of ours would be thrilled to hear that. And I do not need your gratitude; it would never have been necessary were you not so weak. I will simply have to fight to free you yet again but only at her behest. As for myself, I am all but ready for my voyage to Ilsabard. Unlike you, I know how to fend for myself and then some.”

Eir Fellfrost: "You need not worry about it. They will not take me again. Or her." Eir spoke with confidence, giving a short, sharp huff through his nose, briefly eyeing the weapon in the sand. "That blade will only get you so far, and there will always be someone better than you. What then, when you lose a bout, fail to defend yourself. How useful will -you- be, robbed of the only thing you seem to find value in?" A head tilted then, still a few strides back. For every step closer Mattisaux took, Eir took one away. "Who would come for you, should you fall?"

He plans to go to Ilsabard. Garlemald, perhaps? Or what remains of it, from what i am told. His arrogance is infuriating. He is like a vicious little child, curiously poking his fingers into places they do not belong. I do not care enough about what he thinks or who he is to deter him. If he wants to make stupid decisions, he can be my guest.

Mattisaux Baschet: “Does that matter to you, little creature Should I fall there, it was meant to be, not that I intend to do so. And should I have the very things, the people, I hold dearest to my heart be ripped out of my hands, I will retaliate on anyone within my grasp. -You- underestimate my ire, naïve and meek that you are.” His eyes narrowed while his lips pressed but in a wicked half-smile. “Your fearless leader neglected to tell you such about me? Had you a backbone, you would already have your answer despite that false confidence of yours."

Eir Fellfrost: "No. It does not matter to me." Eir scoffs, and begins a slow, pacing walk; circling the man as Mattisaux had done to him not all too long ago. "Few rarely go into a battlefield with the intent to perish there. Even if you fall, you might be maimed. Divested of any ability to take revenge, no matter how full of ire you might be. I do not underestimate you. A fight between us would surely see you the victor. For the sake of your loved ones, if you do indeed have any, do be careful not to overestimate yourself, for their sake." A roll of his shoulders, then. "She told me what i told you. You must not have been that important, i suppose."

A chuckle bubbled out of Mattisaux’s chest as Eir finished. “Mayhap, your Sayuri thinks it is attractive when you pretend to be strong and act like you know what you are talking about. The poor thing might even be convinced or mayhap her love for you is stronger, more resilient than your simple words.” Mattisaux met him head on, unabashed toward the smaller one, once more reaching. “Take my arms and my legs, I will -always- have my ways to slaughter another. But that is not in overconfidence. I hear Garlemald has harsher winters than Coerthas and I must see for myself.”

...He will me miserable and useless before long. When he realises he has nothing more than his sword arm. Though it is important to be able to defend yourself, how can that possibly be the only thing that someone can value...? He reminds me of... ...Oh... No.

A twitch of annoyance knits Eir's brow, then. Rather than backing off, Eir darts beneath the arm, behind him, turning on a heel to unsheathe a chakram and loft it in his direction. "That is what all the overconfident ones say. Perhaps that is why you were out here alone. Because no one else can be bothered to listen to your self-important gloating." A small sigh from his nose, though it's no help in fighting the crook of a smirk at the corner of his lips. "You cannot see well, and you are -much- too slow. I cannot imagine you will be 'worrying about us' for long."

Mattisaux followed him around and turned to face him at his own pace, raising a brow at the loose chakram before shrugging as he liked. “Unfortunately for you, I have yet to die in even the worst of situations.” Whatever laughter he had before vanished in a solemn timbre. “Also, it matters little how fast one is but who tires first. Do not boast your confidence when you were too slow to escape your captors.” Then he bled a long sigh. “Gods, I am speaking to a child.”

Eir Fellfrost: "Then it is as you say. You are -lucky-." The word rolled from his tongue like an insult. "I have danced for close to a hundred cycles or so. As for my captors, it was simply a well executed plan." A small huff through his nose, a little quieter then. The weapon is slowly lowered, but kept in hand. "For me, specifically."

Mattisaux Baschet: “Lucky -and- useful. I am glad you realize that much otherwise I would never have been able to save you. Though, to be truthful, it was more for your leader and your beloved’s sake. There must be something… better about -this-.” He gestured at Eir with an easy hand and roll of his eyes. “The only thing I truly wish to see out of you is an effort to better yourself that does not involve hiding behind words as useless as you have been. But who am I to tell it how I see it? Or right, I must be blind, mm?”

Eir Fellfrost: "Whether you were there or not, we would have made it out." A huff then, as he's gestured at. "You are not quite so important as you think you are. I hope when your overconfidence claims you, that it will not be at the expense of someone else." Half rolling his eyes, Eir moves away; as though he would leave. "The only thing i want to see from you is an improvement to your personality. Failing that, your absence will do."

Mattisaux Baschet: “Hm, gracious words to one of the people who delivered you from your fate but, again, I digress. I do not wish your timely demise, only that you learn from your foolish mistakes. Whether you have lived until my age or some hundred years, you have the mentality of a child. Any more of your fussing will not help your case. Now,” he turned on his heel facing the water to retake his seat but not without waving lazily without looking at him. “Do not die getting back to your company. I do not want to be blamed for it.”

I am not so weak, so defenseless that... ... It... Is true that i am not the strongest. That i have no love and little skill for fighting, but he says this only to upset me. ...Things would be no different if i was stronger. It is not... Because of me, that... ... Is it?

Eir Fellfrost: "Suddenly my gratitude is important. She was right. Hypocrite." Eir chides, shaking his head as he watched the Elezen turn. "Because the opinions and advice of a man as blind as he is stupid are clearly something of value. It should be you who needs to be careful. Your clear lack of experience is like to get you killed long before me."

Mattisaux Baschet: “Yes, yes. -I- am the hypocrite here.” Once he seated himself back down, he wasted no time in resuming his sprawled lounge. Only when he was settled did he put his visor and sunglasses back on just to shoo him away with another wave. “You are still around? That I had such a strong impression on you that you wish not to leave it. Hurry along home before you get hurt now.”

Eir Fellfrost sighs, eyeing the tide. He'd already turned, beginning his departure when Mattisaux began to speak. "For the love of any god watching, do shut up. You will give the gulls a headache." With the last quip, Eir departs further inland, silently hoping this would be the last he'd see of the Elezen.

...What a loathsome man. I would not let him see how he got beneath my skin; i would not give him such satisfaction. That he helped us is something of an unbelievable achievement. He.... He reminds me so much of that monster that i do not want to think of it. He is wrong. Even were i stronger, nothing would have changed. ...Right?

#Muse: [Eir]#Chapter: [Present]#FFXIV #IC #Screenshot #Writing #Textlog

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blueberryaesthetics · 8 months

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I Was Told to Lay the Dead to Rest

If I found any, that is. The Wood Wailer who hired me is a kind man, and he'd heard reports that the Twelveswood was teeming with ill intent. It hugged the very border, practically spilling into the desert's lap, but I am aware of a small village in the area. It was simple enough, and with everything going on it felt good to be doing something. Last summer still weighs too heavily on my mind.

Of course, it did not go entirely according to plan. Mattisaux was present in the area as well, having been hired to find a woman. A living woman. I have never suddenly hoped the information I received was incorrect. I would much rather he find his than I find mine.

We fought. Of course. I remember that, and I remember following after him Listening for whatever I could...and then... Whispers. My name. Just my name, like usual. How am I supposed to hear Them and not answer? I owe my every skill and talent to Them. It went mostly dark after that.

Dark. Quiet. Just the humming of power under my skin, and the whisper of my name. I saw claws, I know that. Longer than a shin bone and twice as sharp as a Wailer's spear. There was a child screaming.

The moment I had my mind back in my possession I lost it to an episode. Mattisaux refused to leave me and the child, Julianna, was the one who hired him. I could not think clearly enough to do anything other than...let him.

He took me to the desert to recover. He...seemed upset at something other than me for once. I would not call this a truce, but for Bexy's sake we are at least civil with one another. Gods, I am so tired.

@the-baschet (Mattisaux)

#[muse: adelle]#ffxiv screenshots #ffxiv rp

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house-vexile · 3 years

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“Are you just so forgiving? Is that even so possible?”

Phenalyn Talavaine spoke so swiftly, it was like she'd been waiting her entire life to say the words. "Were I to do something horrible, I would atone with all my might and hope with all my soul that I would be forgiven. There is no greater healing than that, is there? To be seen for the wrongs you did, the burden you chose to pick up and carry. How can I ever expect that kind of forgiveness from others if I cannot even do it myself?"

She clasped her hands together over her stomach, looking a bit small. "The thought you could do it again terrifies me. But the thought that you are incapable of making another choice is even worse. I...I do not wish to live my life believing that horrible things cannot transform into something better."

---

A small excerpt from an exchange with @the-baschet - Thank you! I missed this wonderful grump!

#ffxiv #ff14 #Final Fantasy XIV #Final Fantasy 14 #Phenalyn Talavaine #Mattisaux Baschet #Roleplay excerpts

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ofloveandaether · 3 years

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She’s always been one to have a peculiar perspective of certain situations.... Art by @minoruru Featuring: @the-baschet

#Alysia Fairwind #FFXIV #mattisaux baschet #Artwork #Commission #Minoruru #Valentine's Day #Final Fantasy XIV #Elezen #Hyur #Balmung RP #Balmung #Crystal RP #Crystal Data center

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outoftheshade · 2 years

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Remembrance

Kora forces herself to remember things about a certain person, locked away by magic. It turns out to be not the best idea she’s had. (Playlist included at the bottom)

Warnings: Blood, mentions of violence and sex.

Kora sat cross-legged on the stone floor of her apartment.

She wore only a chemise with some tiny shorts beneath. She thought she should make herself comfortable for what was to come, but then she went and sat on the floor, the cold stone digging into her thighs. But she wasn’t getting back up yet. Not when she had prepared things for where she was. And if she died here on the floor, well… She’d die pretty. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad for whoever found her. As bad.

Sheets of yellowed drawing paper were fanned out around her, some with singed edges, as if they were partially burnt, just to be drawn back out of the flames. All of them with the face of an elezen on them. An elezen man. On some he stared straight ahead. Others had side profiles of him. A couple you could just barely see his face, as if they were drawn as he laid in bed, turned away from the artist.

Kora was the artist, but she couldn’t remember drawing any of this. Or the gold ring that sat near the drawings. How had she gotten it? Had he…? No, not yet. She already felt the pain at the edge of her mind, pushing against her face from the inside. She couldn’t move along the edge. She had to jump right in, as far as she could go.

She had to break this. She had to rip open the box in her mind that memories had been forcibly locked away in, no matter how much it hurt. No matter how much it ruined her. She had been ruined before, and she was still here. And she would continue to be here, no matter what that might mean.

The wooden box that she had kept these things in, shoved beneath her bed, sat nearby. She folded up a cloth that always kept in her pocket and dropped it inside, along with her flask of whiskey. The box was then pushed as far across the room as she could manage. No crutches. She’d crawl if that’s what it meant to deal with this properly.

Her hands reached out and she let them hover over the things laying before her. She thought too much about it, and then stopped thinking at all, letting her intuition lead her straight to a picture laying in the middle of the others. She snatched it up and held it up in front of her. And he was smiling back at her. It was a weak smile, that didn’t quite meet his eyes, but a smile all the same.

She let, or tried to let, memories flood back. Then the pressure was there, followed by a sharp pain shooting through her skull. And then the blood wetting the inside of her nose, causing her to sniffle to try and hold it back. She locked her gaze onto the picture and tried to push open the doors that were tightly locked in her mind. Push. Push. Push. More and more pain.

The pushing wasn’t seeming to work, though, even though it did cause her a good bit of pain. So she kicked. She kicked that door that kept her from those memories right back down.

Her eyes went out of focus and then shut tightly, the feeling she felt reminiscent of her head bouncing off of a wall, nearly cracking her skull. She let out a low groan before clenching her teeth together, trying to distract herself from the pain and focus more on the memories that were slipping out at a river’s pace.

And that river flowed by fast, and had very choppy waters. Fragments of memories ran through her mind in a deluge. Sights, feelings, smells, sounds. The sight of his tired eyes. The feeling of his large hands gripping her hips until it hurt, with her not minding. The smell of his skin while it was glistening with sweat. The sound of his husky laughter as he fell off of her.

A shudder ran through her as she brought a hand to her nose, sniffling again. But that didn’t do much to slow the trickling blood, or the thoughts in her head. She couldn’t stop, though. She had to keep this up.

Planting a hand against the floor to try and find at least some of her bearings, her eyes looking over the other drawings as she put the one in her hand off to the side. The pads of her fingers ran over them until she stopped on the one she was dreading: a drawing of the elezen scowling down at her, by the angle of his head.

She brushed her fingers over it once before quickly pinching the paper between her finger and thumb, raising it up in front of her face. She made herself focus on the face, on the foreboding expression on it. And then she kicked. And then kicked again.

These memories were accompanied by a deep discomfort, the feeling that she shouldn’t be going this way. But she was, because she had to.

Things began flashing in her mind. His face scowling at her from “different” angles. From above as she lingered near him, both of them standing. Him standing near… with his hands wrapped around her neck, forcing her back against a tree as he squeezed. Him from just a bit above as he sat near her and drank, and drank, and scowled. Him pushing her and her unable to stop it as she fell off the end of a dock and into the blue waters below, and him holding her under with a colder expression than his normal, everyday scowl.

It all hurt her more than she could ever think.

She whimpered at first at the physical and mental agony, the hurt, the anger. The cracking, sharp pain that bounced around inside her head. The blood that flowed from her nose and dripped down onto her chest. She let out a growl and reached up to grip her head, fighting the urge to give up then and there. She pushed herself to keep going.

The woman, trembling like a leaf, took each and every thing before her into her hand. The gold ring showed another side of him. It wasn’t from him, oh no. It was from an au ra who hoped to “save” her from him. And that was a long chain of memories of how he looked at them, how he thought of them, how disgusted he was of them. How he yelled at her about sparring with one who just so happened to pick her up and carry her in hopes of throwing her in the ocean. How she somehow liked that and how wrong she was for it.

Feeling like her skull was about to burst, she kept going, picking up one paper after another, trying to hurry through this before she just keeled over and died.

So many memories. So much pain in it all. Why was she doing this again? Why? What was this going to help?

There he was, the first time they met, asking how much she cost of all things. There they were, sniping back and forth at each other for moons on end for no reason, not admitting they enjoyed it. There she was stabbing him for threatening her. There she was, stabbing him again, but healing him just enough so he wouldn’t die. There he was, saving her life, twice. There they were, dancing. There they were, limbs intertwined, his hand at her throat again. There he was, too many times, saying he never wanted to see her again. But he did. They kept seeing each other. No matter how much he doubted her and everything else. No matter how much she wanted things he’d never give her.

Cut hand. Stinging cheek. Tingling thighs. Bleeding leg. Red throat. Held hand. Tired eyes. Her drinking to stop his drinking. It didn’t work. It never worked. None of it worked, no matter how hard she tried.

She let out a strangled scream and curled inward on herself, sobbing uncontrollably and wishing it’d just stop. But it wasn’t going to. She knew this was going to happen, to some extent, but she insisted on it. Why? Why? Why was she so stupid? She pressed her hand to her nose to try and stymie the bleeding, but it didn’t help. It only stained her hand scarlet.

So instead pushed herself up to her feet and swayed like a drunk person, staggering over to the door to her bedroom. Feeling herself falling forward, she pressed her hand against the door, just for it to swing open as her hand smeared blood across it. With nothing to anchor her, she fell face-first against the hard floor.

And then the darkness took her.

Playlist

#kora arbreaux #mattisaux baschet #writings

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gyrabanian · 4 years

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"If I'm not careful, I may let you catch me on fire."

"I suppose that just begs the question if you want me to light the match now or later."

@the-baschet

[patreon] [ko-fi] [t.o.s]

#hgeuhuehueuehh #this was good rp #U__U #ffxiv art #my art #morgan o'faolain #mattisaux baschet

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the-hiltless-swordsman · 5 years

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~How You (don’t) get the Girl~

“Just get to the point so we can go back to drinking. Do you love this bitch or not?”

"Gods dammit, at least react to what I'm saying!" And in that moment, in that sickening, inner self of a moment, he hated himself for he knew that he would have said the exact same thing to someone else in the same situation. The anger was still ever-present yet the dukes were sent swinging back down to his sides but not before rubbing at his eyes in hopes to relieve some amount of stress. Mattisaux Baschet shoved Eoiel's shoulder in the direction of the stairs. "Go on since you want to drink yourself dead. I may just join you but we will not share the same grave space."

Eoiel Walker caught the bottom step with his ankle and fell at a funny angle. Somehow in the wild twisting tumult of his tumble his forehead hit stone first. A gloved hand went to cover his face as he rolled and twitched once or twice on the ground. He eventually wriggled his way to a semi-kneeling position, blood running down his face. “It is not supposed to be complicated, you know. Women and shit.”

(( @the-baschet and I did a wonderful scene showing the descent into madness that follows a night of drinking. Thank you for fun time <3 ))

#ffxiv #ff14 #final fantasy xiv #final fantasy 14 #the-hiltless-swordsman #Eoiel Walker #Mattisaux Baschet #Seeing Red #RP Excerpts and Screenshots

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fairasmorninglight · 5 years

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I found an afk @the-baschet!

#ffxiv #ff14 #Elezen #mattisaux baschet #Ul'dah

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the-baschet · 10 months

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#Final Fantasy XIV #Final Fantasy 14 #FFXIV #FF14 #ffxiv rp #Balmung #Mattisaux Baschet #Ishgardian #Elezen #Sometimes I have to dress him up

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shroudblessings · 4 years

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⭐️⭐️⭐️

⭐️ When he’s too far into his cups & passed out in some indescribable tavern or alley in the local Gridania area, Amh is the one whom people contact. Even though he’s considered a typical loner, some have claimed to have seen them together a few times.

⭐️ Since their first meeting Amh keeps a respectable distance away from his person but makes effort in making pleasant conversation with him if they happen to cross paths.

⭐️ She may have once or twice asked about him in the distant reaches of the Shroud, curious as to what sort of history Mattisaux has been so desperate to drink away. These little investigations are few & far in between, however, lest he finds out what she’s up to.

thanks for the ask @the-baschet!

#prompts #amh answers #asks #woops this is prolly nearly 2 years old

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thevoilinauttheory · 4 years

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Wake Up by Arcade Fire

“With my lightning bolts a-glowing I can see where I am going to be When the reaper he reaches and touches my hand With my lightning bolts a-glowing I can see where I am going With my lightning bolts a-glowing I can see where I am go-going

You better look out below!”

[ For @the-baschet‘s Mattisaux Baschet! Let me tell you, you’ve got one complicated character - and that made this challenge all the more fun to dig into. I’m wondering if that’s the end goal for your character, and if you, you play them so well! As for the song itself. I decided on Arcade Fire a little bit into looking at your blog; there’s something very raw about their voices, very filled with emotion. (I’ll likely get some people who’ll disagree with me, and that’s valid.) Their style changes with each song, so you really never know what you’re going to get. I’ve chosen this song - and specifically these lyrics - because it touches on the fear of death, how one is told to fear it, told to hold in those fears regardless; and towards the end, realizes that it is nothing to be afraid of, that those that held the power of their lives lied to them. To go against the grain and take life into their own hands. I hope you agree on my choice!! And I hope you enjoy this song as much as I do, regardless! Thank you for your patience and participation! ]

#character music #music #the-baschet #wake up #arcade fire #//cmr

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umbralsound-xiv · 5 months

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A Welcome Visit.

I hadn't really known what to expect, visiting at his manor. It felt so... Official, somehow. Recieving the letter was a weight off my mind, and as soon as i had a moment to myself... I decided to pay a visit.

Regardless of knock or greeting, the unlocked door revealed a brightly lit foyer with a faint rosy aroma coasting throughout the air. However, it seemed as if only the entrance was lit up as the rest of the home shaded in shadow and dark.

Bexy Amalaryssia gently pushes her way into the foyer with some air of wonder, wide blue eyes gazing over the decor with a faint smile. The sound of heeled boots heralded her journey further into the abode, some hesitance taking her after the first few moments. Ears high, her head slowly tilts, hair spilling over her shoulders as she better listened. "…Mattisaux?"

Mattisaux Baschet had not stirred for quite some time and hearing the door open made him move no differently. Though the moment of quiet did have him curious. “A stranger…?” He breathed beneath his breath though the instant her voice graced the space, his heart leapt in an audible gasp. “Bexy? You are here? Truly?”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Of course! I recieved your letter, how could i not be?" She takes a few steps closer onto the rug, ears flicking in an attempt to pinpoint his location. "I am only regretful i couldn't make it sooner…"

A smile colored his otherwise dour lips before he shouted, “Up the stairs! It is to the right of the door! …Or the left. It is around there! Come through the next door on your right once you are there.” He could not be bothered to speak coherently; he was far too excited, twisting his torso to hug the lip of the couch with his arms with his lower half splayed over the couch. There he waited with his head resting on his bicep, enlarged pupils staring at the door.

Bexy Amalaryssia listened, and did as instructed; her wander through the house full of curiosity that she didn't chase for wishing to see him. Slowly, she pushes through the aforementioned doors, gaze finally settling on him with her usual warm smile, given easily from painted lips. "Hello, Mattisaux."

Whether he may have been holding his breath or not, Mattisaux released a sigh of apparent relief when his imagination caught up with her at the door. “Bexy dearest.” His smile melted though his tone was still pleased. With a groan or two, he twisted and adjusted himself to a more proper seat than he held, gesturing out to the room. “You have my most sincere welcome. Pray, rest yourself, dear. Are you thirsty? Mayhap you have want for a snack… somewhere around here?”

Bexy Amalaryssia bubbles a mirthful laugh as she moves to take a seat, a woven basket sat in the crook of her arm. "As though i'd be a guest in your home and not bring gifts? What kind of visitor do you take me for?" Beaming, it's nudged over to him; a bottle of Ishgardian brandy the same make of their last meeting, and a white box that smelled faintly of rich pastry. Bexy doesn't waste a moment to look over him, seeking out an indicator for his health, before her eyes finally settle on his. "…How have you been?"

The usual critical blue of his eyes followed her to where she sat, unblinking well before she caught him by surprise. He hardly leaned over to accept the basket, peeking inside at the treasure. “And what host would I be should I not offer something? You do have my thanks; you know what I enjoy already.” He shrugged a shoulder with a slanted grin then gestured a loose hand over the raw leather of recent claw-markings among other aged bites and gnashes. “I have been better.” He sighed, his mind wandering to more sour topics. “It was an entire ordeal.”

...He was wounded. I can see that much. Beyond the map of scars visible, far older than any trial, there were some that spoke of recency. But by something clawed...? ...What happened, Mattisaux?

Bexy Amalaryssia: "An ordeal that you survived… Gods, i can't tell you the dread i felt, waiting for your letter. Not knowing… I almost came up north to see for myself." The weight seems to roll off her shoulders for seeing him, even if her brow furrows at seeing the wound. "I am glad to listen if you want to speak. Perhaps over a glass of brandy? There are some goats cheese and plum tarts, too. I know you're less fond of sweeter things."

You smile at Mattisaux Baschet.

His dilated gaze shifted from Bexy to her gifts, sighing wistfully with a pause that perhaps ran a bit too long. “That I choose to be responsible now… As is, I can hardly feel a thing. I was just telling that Olivier, do you remember him? That I could run my sword clean through my neck and not feel a thing. Or was that boiling water…?” He snatched the brandy by the neck and inspected it longingly regardless. “Those chirurgeons seem to enjoy making their rounds to choke mysterious potions down my throat. Could be somnus for all I know.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Then perhaps it is better saved for when you can appreciate it fully. I am just… I'm glad, Mattisaux. You were confident you would succeed, and you did, not that i ever doubted you. It is at least one weight from my mind." Gloved fingertips tap her knee, then, lips pulling to a line. "What… Happened…?"

Another grumble, one of likely many, rolled through him while he placed the liquor on the coffee table. Before responding, he dipped his hand back in the basket to break off some of the mentioned cheese though he seemed to just play with it in his hand for the time. “It was unceremonious; I walked right to the Second in Commander, standing there like he usually does, perhaps especially in times like these, and requested my trial.” His next breath drained his chest, his eyes wheeling around while he recollected. “Gods, what an irritating little gossiping group they became, the knights crowded around me just to watch and listen.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "As some Ishgardians are wont to do. No offense. The men aren't any better than the women in regards to the gossiping. Nusciances, the lot of them. Did they take you prisoner? What happened then? You -are- a free man now, yes?"

I should know, i'm married to one. I suppose... I am technically Ishgardian nobility in the most detatched sense, but i only play the part when i truly must. I can compose myself and act as i'm expected, but it's just that. An act.

Mattisaux Baschet: “Yes, I am a free man now. So free I can roam about this house without being yelled at though not quite outside.” He sank back into the cushion, humming in thought. “After they heard what I had to say, with a few interrupting here and there, inquisitors were summoned to take me away where I sat in a gaol for a few days, I think. In truth, it was not terribly uncomfortable, I am not too certain how else to describe it. But that was far from the truth when it came to the day. They led me along without telling me. One of them, a sheepish, meek-looking boy who hardly looked like he came of age was the only one who seemed worried for me. Anyroad, they dragged to a cave that hosted a chimera. A chimera, Bexy. Where did they get one? How did they?”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…Gods! I've never seen one, but i have heard of them… And they made you face it? Alone?" Her ears pin back, a sharp frown on her lips. "Who was responsible for that decision? That was hardly a fair fight! Just because you would best any spoken opponent wouldn't warrant… That…" Her gaze traces over the fresher wound with a small frown. "…Bastards. So… What now? What will you do?"

Mattisaux Baschet: “What is there to do when they sent me there to die?” The sharp sound of him kissing his teeth rang in the air. “Every single time I think about it, I feel the pit in my stomach grows larger. I would have slain it for them had there been a leve. I would have even jumped at the chance if something so dire was out roaming in Coerthas. That they wished to kill me with it if I could not slay it,” he sighed, clenching the cheeseless fist.

...That the country he wants to so vehemently defend would want him dead so badly. Even if i don't agree with much of what he says, it... ...It's the sense of betrayal of it all.

Mattisaux Baschet: “Despite the -sanctity- of the trial, I was not privy to their names. Their faces I do know, however… Though I can’t go killing them when next I see them regardless of how good that will feel. This gods damned cruel world.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…I would if you asked me. You know that." Her gaze flicks up to his for a moment, where it holds. "You are wounded but alive. More fool them; you have more than proved your innocence. To come for you again would condemn them, but… Well. I would still be on guard, not that i need to tell you that. If some of them wanted you dead, Mattisaux…" She doesn't finish her sentence, but gives a knowing look.

Even while his mind waded through a haze, he knew her look all too well, to which his lips flattened. “You do not need to avenge me; if I truly wished them dead, I would do it myself. I already did away with one of them. The bastard fought alongside that monster though he was hardly worth much effort, he was always weak even to the very last.” He muttered the last sentence in his not too quiet way before picking the volume back up. “For them to allow something like this, well, my reputation must have been more hideous than I originally thought."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "And now it is… Less hideous, hm?" She brightens a little to dismiss her worry, head tilted slightly. "The offer is there, and you need only ask. I cannot believe you fought a chimera, of all things…" Bexy slowly shakes her head with a sigh. "So… Aside your wounds and all else… Everything is well… Yes?"

Mattisaux Baschet: “It would not have been as awful if I, for one, knew what I was up against but also if I had my usual healer. I have become so, dreadfully used to her presence, I was more reckless than I should have been.” Shaking his head, he let out another sigh with her before remembering the cheese that got all over his hand.

Mattisaux Baschet: “Everything else -is- fine, however. My mother… is still alive, there is no more chimera, as far as I’m aware, and I can now walk as freely as I wish without hood, mask, or following the shadows. I can only imagine how much better a time you must be having without me.”

A... Usual healer. He's so private sometimes, though i know i can't be the only person he talks to. I've heard mentions and names, here and there... Hah. And he chides me for being reckless.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "…I hadn't realised you had a usual healer." Bexy chimed, though her icy gaze pried for curiosity. Small nods accompany his words as she listens, smiling gratefully for his circumstances… Which falls, as the subject turns to her. Bexy's icy gaze slowly drifts away, then. "You say that as though i don't enjoy your company, Mattisaux…"

His mouth pressed closed; Bexy’s acknowledgement of his words echoes back to him had him truly listen in a squint. Though, rather than expound further, he latched on to the next topic. “That is still something I can never understand from you, much less as I am now, when you surround yourself with the most curious company. And also a company in the literal sense. I am nothing more than your typical Ishgardian, if not a bit more brutish.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "You're a friend, Mattisaux. And in case you hadn't realised, i'm quite used to Ishgardian company. Plenty of people have tried to understand the hows and whys of me, and most fail still; not that it matters. You're not perfect, and we've been at odds more than once. But you… Know how i am, when it comes to those i care for. You're not exempt."

...I'd kill for him if he asked me to. He knows this. He has to know this, doesn't he? I have had to fight for everything good in this world. It's never just been given to me. And although we... Do not always see eye to eye, i know that if it came to it, he would do the right thing for me.

Mattisaux Baschet: “Quite a few of these claw markings here,” his hand absentmindedly searched the healed dips and scrapes of his torso, “remind me how little exception you give me, dear. And not all wounds of marks as I know all too painfully.” The severity of what he meant sunk his shoulders, and his overall self, into the cushion. “My foolishness aside, the mystery is just one part of what’s alluring about you. Should I know all your secrets, I may lose all interest in you."

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Well, lucky you i have more mysteries than i could ever tell you in my lifetime." A half-weary smile looks over the scars, offered to him in some manner of comfort shortly afterwards. "…You know me better than many. Know what i'm capable of." Bexy heaves a small sigh aftter some long moment has passed. "…The situation with the slavers. It… Isn't over. Not yet. But we have the upper hand, still."

Mattisaux Baschet: “The slavers…” He resounded, remembering. “Your sister? She is taken again?” Before she had a chance to answer, he curled his stomach to sit then raise himself into a wobbling stand. Truly, he could not feel a thing, though his body trembled to the effort, needing to grasp the arm of the couch to keep steady. “I can ready myself soon, I need only make it to my room.”

...What? No, Mattisaux, sit down you fool! ... ...Though it's endearing he'd rush to help me so quickly in his state, it's simply not necessary right now. We're in no immediate danger, and he needs to rest. ...Something tells me he's not used to doing that.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "What? No! N-no, she is… She is with us, she is fine, i wouldn't let them take her again. Please, sit down!" Her worry was more than evident from the deep knit of her brow. "Sayuri is fine… Enough. They've messed with her aether to the point it's almost unusable; to which end i plan to take one of them, once he stops hiding. One of the worse ones found us in Ul'dah; me, Vex and Sayuri. It took everything we had to hold Sayuri back."

To the sound of everyone remaining safe and relatively where they ought to be, another sigh, one a bit more ragged, bled from Mattisaux’s throat. He fell back to his seat though he favored a lean over the arm of his chair this time. “Ah, that’s good to hear…” After a slower, deeper breath, he continued. “But why would you hold her back? Me slaying someone on the streets of the Crozier would brand me more than just a heretic. What ties does your sister have in Ul’dah? And who is these Vex? I think I have heard that name twice now.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "In the middle of Ul'dah? With eyes everywhere? No, we can't afford to compromise our prescence there. He did not attack us for the same reason, but was… One of the worst of them; the one responsible for putting Eir in the condition he was in. If Sayuri or Vex were taken by the authorities, Grym has enough coin in their pockets that they'd end up right back in his clutches. I need to be able to wander Thanalan uncontested by authority to seek someone who can hopefully reverse the damage done to her. Vex is the reason they got out in the first place. She arranged their escape in return for her freedom… Which we managed. She's living with me for the time being, and telling us everything she knows about the compound."

Mattisaux Baschet: “Ah…” He paused, the thought mulling around in a lingering silence. “I suppose the ones left behind are clamoring for a way out too. It is more than a little frustration he cannot be slain right then and there. I would go as far as either tracking him out of the city or paying a street urchin to do the deed. Why can it not be as simple as I wish, dear?”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Because life is never simple. They do not know where we live, and i would sooner it remain that way; we left through the aether, to be sure. The one we ran into in Ul'dah was Vairg; a Viera swordsman of some considerable talent, if Vex and Sayuri are to be believed -- And they are. The one i am after is Q'kura, the Seeker responsible for taking Eir in the first place. On top of this, he's also one of their most senior healers, so with any luck, he'll be able to tell us how to fix Sayuri's aether… As well as let her finish putting every bastard that laid hands on him in the grave. Grym is the head of it all, and there's a whole hierachy beneath him. But it's been… Quiet, in the few bells i've been able to try to hunt them. They are still afraid of me." Bexy's lips curl to a smirk that she quickly dismisses. "…Which is both a blessing a curse. They don't want to go outside, still."

...In truth, it's more infuriating than anything. I can't exactly storm into there and drag them out, i just need to wait outside like some vulture. ...But i can be patient. I'll wait. They can't hide forever.

Mattisaux Baschet: “They are afraid of you?” Her smirk did not go unnoticed; a soft chuckle rattled him at her brevity of it. “They will slip in the same way as when they all escaped. I only pray you live up to your image. Would that I could join you in merciless slaughter. Vairg, Q’kura, forgive my non-Miqo’te accent, and Gyrm, you said? For now, I am at the mercy of this society; it hardly matters that my House is lesser, we still reside in this gossip-ridden land. I must recover quickly…”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Vex says so. Their absence from Thanalan proper says enough. I plan to show nothing less than the most formidable side of me, worry not. When the time comes, i would be glad for you to join me… But you must rest, first, much as you might not like to." A small note of amusement, then. "…Doesn't this sound familiar?"

As was his wont, Mattisaux’s brow turned to furls at the musing question until he huffed in remembrance. “That it does though I am in decidedly less hysterics. My care for them is nigh nonexistent, dear, except for mayhap your Sayuri. She is endearing. But my true concern rests with you. Should you ask, my sword is yours. Even now…” He lifted a brow at her.

Bexy Amalaryssia: "I know, and i am thankful." Bexy smiles warmly, leaning a little further forward; she'd have settled a hand on him, had she not been so far away. "…It's different now. Sayuri is not in any immediate danger, nor are any of us. We're prepared. I'll just be… Hunting, is all. We mght have the advantage, but you know that i will be no less careful. Do not worry for me, hm?"

He watched her keenly, willing to lean forward had he not been so already. “You will forever and more ask for the impossible out of me, dear. I swear I will yell and scream at these damned chirurgeons to quit with their dubious medicines and show me to a priest. They are incapacitating me on purpose. Should I not hear from you in the next moon or so, I will only think the worst. You -must- keep me informed.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Perhaps if you were not such a diifficult patient, they need not, hm?" A small tilt of her head, before her eyes narrow. "…Any medical advice i could gvee you would not come from people you would trust, regardless of their skill, so here you must remain. I promise i will keep in contact. I still have enough stationary to write you for a little." Bexy smiles, offering a warm hum.

Neoma nor Adelle would be a welcome face to him, especially in his state. I don't want to tempt fate into an arguement that i will not be responsible for the consequences of.

Mattisaux Baschet: “It is entirely their fault that I threaten to rip their throats out with my teeth with how they treated me initially, they needn’t -continue- sedating me like some animal.” Another grumble escaped him though he did not have it in him to remain upset around her at the mention of the gift she still keeps. “That you use it terribly heartens me though it is rather gaudy, isn’t it? My mother is particularly in love of the Haillenarte’s crest; it’s everywhere, even the air.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "Gaudy? No, i think anything but. I'm actually quite fond of roses. I had thought it smelled pleasant upon my arrival… I do wear them in my hair, sometimes. They symbolise elegance. Danger, if mishandled. A lot of things. You're not fond, yourself?"

Mattisaux Baschet: “I enjoy it all the same, far better than being a bell boy like our False Commander and the others are simply alright. Roses, I would say, are the perfect symbol of Ishgard as a whole. The land, even post Calamity, is beautiful. The city is stunning to the senses in both appearance and function. Her people make up both the petals and the thorns in far too many ways to count. Egh, I could go on and on but I can’t be as poetic as I wish.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "You're surprisingly poetic regardless, Mattisaux." Bexy beams, slowly rising to her feet as she slips from the sofa to stand. "…I promise i will write. If something happens, i'll ensure someone finds you to say so. But it won't. You… You get some rest, yes? Proper rest. You've earned it, after all."

Poeticism doesn't exactly seem the most expected thing from him, but i remember the few times i've heard it from him. Surprising only in his brutality in all other things. ...Though saying the same, i have known others. And i'd be something of a hypocrite, if i didn't consider the same of myself...

Mattisaux Baschet: “Surprisingly?” A scoff colored his mien though it was short-lived to her stand. It was then that he decided to match her smile though it was not quite as vibrant. “I will look forward to it in the morrow and so on. My rest will come whether I will it to or not so you truly needn’t worry over that.” Another pause, brief though it was, held him. “Seeing you has truly, sincerely brightened this sun, Bexy. I am glad you are doing alright, all things considered.”

Bexy Amalaryssia: "But i will worry anyway. You know me." The smile doesn't fade an ilm, regardless. "…I am glad to see you, too. Even through the more difficult suns, it is a comfort to me that all is well for you. Perhaps now i will worry for you -less-, but worry all the same." Brushing her gloves over her attire, she stands a little straighter. "…I'll write. I promise. Take care of yourself, yes?"

Mattisaux Baschet simply nodded and leaned back into the couch. “I will, I will as usual. You take care of yourself too, dear. Until we next meet."

#Muse: [Bexy]#Chapter: [Shelter]#FFXIV #IC #Screenshot #Writing #Textlog

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