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meowww-ffxiv · 4 months

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When Krile was trying to expose Alphinaud learning how to draw to impress girls, Mordred said, "It's good to hear he had a normal, lighthearted childhood."

He said it with a sense of relief. In the 3 minute conversation leading to that revelation, it was the first time this miqo'te, dressed in mostly black robes and looking like he hadn't had cause to smile in years, showed Krile a glimpse of himself.

She'd done a little research into the Warriors of Light. She'd received a firsthand report from Alisaie, who gave them such a glowing "review" and spoke the most well of Mordred, who she claimed was strong and clever and all the positive adjectives a teenage girl could ascribe to someone she admired. Alphinaud's remark had been that Mordred did not like him, and for good reasons, and Theodore was sharp and devoted and all the adjectives a teenage boy would describe someone who was an afterthought when standing next to his peer, who was Estinien.

The two Warriors of Light Krile met that day was a miqo'te who looked like he'd lost so much that he'd passed through anger and arrived at the realization that he was glad others needn't have lost as he had, and his tall, dragoon shadow who talked because he didn't, who smiled where he could not, and who was still -- to this very day, years later -- an enigma to Krile.

Mordred had always been the most honest, open person between himself and Theodore. It was why, Krile supposed, he was so visibly, deeply unhappy when they first met.

Theodore had helped her with an innumerable amount of things, and the gifts and souvenirs he brought back told her well enough that he was in fact sharp and devoted. But he evaded hers and Tataru's soft prods into talking about personal things, about himself.

In this way, he was exactly like Thancred.

"Does your future remember Theodore?" she asked G'raha once.

"Only as a story," G'raha replied. "He passed before-- before Mordred did. The first of the major Black Rose casualties. And it was...perhaps the final straw for the pyre."

What G'raha had no heart to tell Mordred was that in the anguished, broken future, Theodore had told him to stay away from the frontlines. As he had done here in this reality, where he had asked Mordred to return to Eorzea after the Ghimlyt Dark. Mordred had been safe in the Ala Mhigan quarters, rebuilding with the people and developing ideas to counter rumors of this Black Rose.

And then the Garleans had unleashed it on Ghimlyt alongside their warmachina, and a broken spear and helmet were returned to the Quarters thereafter. Theodore's silver-gilded, icy armor that had shielded him from countless other dangers and immortalized him in songs and books, could not shield him from the deadly gas and the machinations of Ascians.

Then the books burned in the flames of war and those who wrote and sang those songs died among so many others. And none remained at all about this other Warrior of Light aside from his friend's handwritten letter to G'raha, among the last, that said, "Theodore is dead. There is nothing left for me."

So, nowadays, whenever Theodore came by the Baldesion Annex -- which he did, because he did guildship commissions and because Mordred told him to help with their Baldesion commissions as well -- Krile asked him about his day. She asked him where he had been, what he had eaten.

Theodore said he was a knight-in-training in Ishgard, once upon a time. He told her about his sympathies for Alphinaud having learned how to draw to impress girls because before he had the words to describe his attraction to men, he'd thrown his own lazy bum into lessons of arms and instruments to impress his handsome schoolmates. He told her he liked fairy tales and stories of romance. He told her he felt like he'd managed to marry off the friend he was most worried about never finding happiness when G'raha returned with Mordred.

He spoke about that part with the same sense of relief Mordred had when he told her he was glad Alphinaud had a normal, lighthearted childhood.

Krile's grandfather used to say a very wise thing about people, and that was: very few were as good a liar as they believed. If there was malevolence in you, it'd bleed through to others no matter what. The same went for benevolence.

"I'm glad," Krile replied to Theodore then. "I'm sure you could tell, but...Raha is always worried that you would resent him. For what happened on the First, as well as, um."

"How besotted my dear best friend is with him?" Theodore replied wryly.

And because she was Raha's adopted sister, Krile had a duty to ask. "Well? Do you?"

"People often speak of moments that appall the conscience and ruin their worldly optimism." Theodore said this very steadily, at once, not in the way a lie was too easy but like it was a thought he'd been nursing for some time. "Not many admit to moments -- no, weeks and months -- of things which elevate their conscience, which inspires and enlightens them. Emboldens them. This, Mordred had given to me. In the months and years I have been at his side. How can I resent the person who had done for him as he had for me? How can I, indeed, treat G'raha with anything but gratitude and friendship?"

#theodore pentaghast #mon writing #ok this counts as writing

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sandorara · 5 months

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☆ 12 screenshots of 2023

These are not one from each month, but instead 12 of my favourites from throughout the year, with my more active gposing months represented more heavily.

1 — Island trip with G'yozah, X'rhun and G'raha 2 — G'yozah and X'rhun housewarming in the Ala Mhigan quarter 3 — Roihu and Gaius in a friend's house 4 — G'yozah, X'rhun and Exarch in a hot spring on the first 5 — A relaxing day in the Crystarium with G'yozah and Exarch 6 — Dion and Terence, in front of a window over Oriflamme 7 — Dion and Terence, skinnydipping at night 8 — G'yozah and Exarch in Il Mheg, first kiss 9 — Dion and terence, a royal wedding in Sanbreque 10 — Dion and Terence, in the greenery of a friend's apartment 11 — Roihu, Lightwarden Enkrateia 12 — G'yozah and X'rhun, high above Ala Mhigo

#gpose #ffxiv #ffxvi #teredio #wolgraha #wolxrhun #gyozrhun #gyozraha #gyozrunraha #my gpose #my teredio gpose #i miss gpooooose #computer please come back from war

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eivor-thorne-ffxiv · 6 months

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He was an amalgamation of rage. He always had been. There was nothing kind about Eivor when someone had incurred his wrath. While he and Cordelia would deny up and down that there were no feelings involved and his connection with the woman was one of an owed debt, he personally couldn’t deny the pang that had swelled in his chest upon learning that Damien Gray had laid his hands on Cordelia. While Eivor had been assured that Cordelia had done significant damage to the little lord, it didn’t placate the hulking Ala Mhigan who had been away from the estate to tend to Cordelia’s business.

It had been several days on the return journey and Eivor had traded out a lighter selection of armor for the thick furs and leathers that he wore underneath protective layer of plate armor. Despite the abundance of chocobos in Ishgard, the large man had still favored a horse and his dappled gray steed led the pack that had swiftly made their way through the large iron gates and up the gravel pathway that led to the large doors of the estate. Eivor had not wasted any time in jumping down from the saddle and handling the leather reins off to another armor clad individual as he made his way through the large doors.

“Where?” He grunted in greeting to the female attendant that had rushed to the door to greet whomever it was. “Her room,” was all that was offered in response as the sound of his thick leather boots stomped against the stone walkway and he recounted the familiar path to her quarters. He hadn’t bothered to knock as he twisted the handle and allowed himself entry to the doorway. “Where is he?” Eivor asked as he drew in a large breath which had made an evident rise and fall to his muscular shoulders.

“His estate.” Her voice was low, the tone holding little emotion as her attention kept to the reading.

“And you’ve no drive to wipe that pathetic estate off of the maps of Ishgard?” Eivor asked with an infuriated tone as he had stepped further into the room.

There was a pause in his demeanor as she had seemed so…plain regarding it. Where Eivor was bottled rage waiting to combust, Cordelia had found herself to be composed and idle. He would’ve brought the sky down upon Damien and not thought twice about it though the woman seemed to not be bothered by the situation.

It may have been a surprising sight to find Cordelia lounging comfortably within a large chair that was settled before the fireplace within her chambers. The loud echoing footsteps gave Eivor’s approach away and despite her knowing of his arrival, the woman remained focused on the book in hand. Ebony locks fell unruly over her shoulders compared to how she typically kept it up off her back. “Did you acquire the shipment? We are set to have everything manufactured and inventoried to be sent to Lady Cress’ ship to be sold and I want it all to be done smoothly.”

He had brought himself further into the room so that he could move to stand before the chair that she had comfortably in. “You have no need to question the status of the shipment and yet you do. Everything is moving ahead as planned and does not require your attention yet you give it weight when you should be dealing with other things.”

She allowed him to speak, her gaze still tracing the words on the parchment of the book, flipping the page once to allow for the time he needed to continue. Once it was clear he was done, Cordelia inhaled deeply with slow intentions and gently closed the book. Great care was given to this particular tome, having only recently received it from Vahalia during their visit and setting aside to the table next to her was done so just as carefully. The breath was released with a soft huff as she finally looked up to Eivor, the events of her altercation with Damien still evident on the blemishes of her skin that she hardly attempted to hide now. “My attention is exactly where it should be. My energy will not be wasted on Damien Gray. He is being handled in my own way.”

“Handled in your own way?” Eivor asked in disbelief. “You let the little lord and his staff just walk out of here with all of their belongings unharmed and now he’s in the safety and comfort of his estate. None of us know what he’s planning or who he means to rally.” Eivor had offered a flippant wave as he had huffed in annoyance. His ire for Cordelia would be misplaced but it was evident that her lack of emotion with the situation was a source of frustration for him. His ice colored hues had taken note of the marring to her facial features as his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth in frustration.

As he continued on, Cordelia’s own frustrations began to grow and upon his final word, she pushed forcefully from her chair. “Apologies, Eivor, when did you become lord of this house? Who made it so that the intricacies involved you and your opinion on what I should be doing?” Her voice had raised a bit now from her prior calm demeanor, but even still she was a far cry from the anger that had boiled over a few nights before.

It mattered little that she stood, though, their height difference still required her to crane her sore neck to keep his gaze. Eivor’s gaze had narrowed down at her. He was a hulking statue of a man and rigged in a full display of armor would only lead him to be more intimidating to the regular passerby. Cordelia was not a regular passerby and it was clear that he had forgotten his place of servitude within her circle.

“I have eyes watching him, the information will be fed back to me when it is learned, if you must know. And for the record-" she paused, pushing by him to cross the room to her bedside table where a carafe of water sat. Pouring the glass, she brought it to her lips, allowing it to linger there as she finished her thought. “- he hardly left unharmed.”

He’d not reply to her and simply turned to watch her traipse across the room as he folded his large arms across his chest. The metal scraped against one another in an obnoxious scratch. “The missive made me aware that Lord Gray had been harmed as well.” He’d note with a clenched jaw. “But it seems as though I’ve misplaced my need to care for your wellbeing and should only focus on the wellbeing of your wealth until my debt has been paid.”

“Your care can be placed where ever you wish for it to so long as it does not get in the way of my work.” Her words came out in ice as she set the now emptied glass back to the bedside table.

It was rare these days that Eivor wound up on this side of her ire though it was clear that no one was free of the blast radius that Damien had created. “Then I needn’t get in the way of your work.” He’d reply with a flat tone as his arms uncrossed.

“You were brought here to settle a debt, to aid me as repayment for the items you stole from us. Do what you will with your emotions or need for feeling protective but do not forget that your place here is not as Lord of this house, for I do not need one."

He’d eye her for a moment beneath knit brows before he would inhale sharply and make his way towards the door of her quarters. “I’ve no need to be a lord. Hell, this wealth like this means fuck all to me. I’ll see myself to the quarters with the rest of the servants.”

Cordelia sighed heavily, walking toward the door as he did so though with a bit quicker pace in attempts to beat him there. When she did so, despite only barely, a hand lifted to press on the door to deny Eivor the ability to open it. “I didn’t say you had to leave.” She dropped her hand, adjusting now so that her back leaned against the wood. A long silence fell between the two as she simply stared up at him, her calm exposure returning.

An exhaled huff of frustration would come from the man’s frame as she had moved to beat him to the door and block his exit. While Eivor was entirely capable of moving Cordelia out of his way should he choose to exit, he instead allowed her to place her body against the wooden door to prevent him from moving forward. He’d not respond to her comment about leaving and instead clenched his jaw as his nostrils flared in slight annoyance. The change from his usual life to one within the Gray Estate was one Eivor still was adjusting to. He was used to living his life on a ship. Air or sea mattered little and he’d spend his nights under the stars. He couldn’t fathom the idea of sleeping under the stars in this dreadfully cold landscape. He had no love for the frozen tundra of a city.

“What would you have me do? Expel unnecessary resources to get revenge on him? I’ve taken steps to have him watched so, if my connection does his job well, we won’t be taken by surprise. I have no interest in wasting more time dedicating my attention to Damien Gray.”

“Myself and another man or two could make quick work of Damien Gray and his lackeys,” Eivor gruffly offered. “You’re sitting on a hope that your connection does his job well. No guarantee that he will.”

“Do you not see the issues that could arise from taking this head on in such a way?” She asked him, her head tilting just slightly, gazing up with an expectant look on her features. Arms rose to cross over her abdomen as she released a heavy sigh.” Not everything needs to be handled with brute force, Eivor. Some instances require tact, and this is one such instance.”

“What issues?” He’d quip back in a hastened manner. “Damien Gray attempted to take your life. A very clear attempt was made by the marks on your neck and when you defended yourself with the means that were near you, he beat you. I don’t know many that would refute that truth.” Eivor had offered a gruff rumble in follow up as he afforded himself a step back to fold his arms over his chest once more.

“The issues of too many eyes looking at me when I need them to be looking elsewhere.” Cordelia took a deep breath, her chest rising slowly as she attempted to ease her frustration that he wasn’t understanding. Whispers swept through Ishgard in waves following Ambrose’s death and while they had quietened for the most part, Cordelia still received the occasional sideways glance when she ventured outside of the estate into the city. “The rumor mill can be vile and work well against our favors, which is something I am trying to avoid and doing more harm to Damien Gray by my hands or by my command would hurt me more than help.”

Eivor couldn’t entirely understand her fixation with the rumor mill. There was little need for such things on ships. Sure, sailors gossiped but they were also just as likely to send a fist across the side of your face as a means of hashing things out instead of creeping behind someone’s back to spew malice and discontent. His icy hues would remain on her as his eyes rolled slightly. “I don’t understand this society,” he’d admit with a slight scoff.

She lifted a hand to his cheek, patting gently with the flash of a smile that faded as quickly as it showed. “Respectfully, dear, you don’t need to.” Maybe she was right. Maybe he didn’t need to understand it and maybe he didn’t want to understand it but that didn’t mean he was free from frustration. His brows would relax as his gaze followed her from the door to her place on the edge of the bed. He hadn’t moved from his spot near the doorway but he also hadn’t reached for the handle. “You need anything then?”

Her hand fell back to her side as she pushed from the door to return back to her bedside, finding herself perched on the edge of the bed. With a heavy sigh, Cordelia held his gaze plainly as she weighed her options. Slowly her steel hues moved along the height of him down his body before lifting to look back at him again. “Not with you in that armor.” She stated coolly before laying back on the bed, never breaking her connection to him.

collab writing with the lovely, @promethea-silk

#collab writing #the kraken & the moth

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otherworldseekers · 11 months

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“Don’t go on that date.” “Why?” “You know why.” “Say it.”

“It’s a date then. See you tomorrow, Arenvald,” Severia waves to the Ala Mhigan Scion.

She turns back toward her quarters in Rhalgr’s Reach to turn in for the night, but a familiar tall form pops out from behind a column before she can get very far. Nero tol Scaeva looms over her with arms crossed, a deep frown on his face. He stands in her way and she’s forced to stop and look up at him.

“Nero! You startled me. What are you doing here?” Severia asks.

“Don’t go on that date,” Nero says in a grim voice. But his ubiquitous sunglasses hide his eyes and Severia can’t read him.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

He must have been eavesdropping near the end of her conversation with Arenvald, Severia realizes. And he… doesn’t want her to go? “Why?”

“You know why,” says Nero. He shifts on his feet uncomfortably.

Oh. She’s not sure, but she’s beginning to see. “Say it. I want to hear you say it.”

“Very well.” Nero runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t want you to date anyone else.”

Severia tilts her head and smiles up at him provocatively. “Are you jealous?”

“And if I am?” He takes a step forward to loom more effectively, but Severia stands her ground. “Will you cancel the date?”

Severia tries to keep a straight face, but completely fails, bursting into laughter. “Nero, you idiot. It’s not a date.”

“What?”

“We’re meeting to go investigate some ruins under Loch Seld.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. Ruins exploring dates are the best kind,” Nero says defensively.

“Alphinaud is going with us.”

Nero thinks about this for a moment, but it can’t be denied that the presence of Alphinaud would ruin any kind of romantic atmosphere. “So it’s not a date.”

“No. Just a bit of adventure to pass the time.”

"Of course," Nero passes his hand through his hair again, this time looking somewhat chagrined. "I don't suppose you can forget this little conversation."

As Severia pushes past him to continue toward her rooms she laughs and says, "Oh, I don't think so. But you could come along."

#Severia x Nero #my writing #Thank you for the ask!#All My Tomorrows

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fheythfully · 8 months

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FFXIV Write 2023 - Day 25: Call it a Day

Birdy lay flat on its back, wings to each side, looking for all the world like a real bird struck dead. Neva watched dispassionately from the doorway as Satella murmured lighting after lightning spell into being amongst her fingertips, each spark fading into oblivion the moment it neared the Garlean machine’s vicinity.

Neva sipped at her coffee and took a moment to appreciate the rich flavour. An Ala Mhigan blend, if she had to guess, and not one to be found easily in the markets as the nation tried desperately to start rebuilding in its newfound fervor of freedom. No - a flavour this bountiful would have been found in the quarters of now-murdered Garlean personnel overseeing the nation’s occupation, or squirreled away in some unknown cache by the natives and brought out into the light to celebrate. Regardless of its source, its presence in Satella’s kitchen was a pleasant and very welcome surprise. No doubt it was a gift of some kind to the Warrior of Light, pushed into her hands as she departed Ala Mhigo in the wake of her victory. Perhaps even sent by postmoogle, its owner desperate to show their appreciation to their Eorzean saviour.

Neva sipped her coffee, and pointedly Did Not Think about the growing mountain of Garlean bodies slain by her companion’s hands.

(Satella had advised a Sharlayan practice called therapy, something which Neva understood required a lot of talking and sharing her feelings. It did not sound pleasant.)

In the present, Satella let out a sound more appropriate for a frustrated feline and threw her hands in the air. The levin within them sparked in accordance to her temperament before settling down to a crackle.

“Please mind the ceiling,” Neva said. “I'd rather not entertain scorch marks.”

Satella shot her a burning glare. It was in anger that Neva found her the most beautiful, if she were to be honest: the woman’s golden skin flushed richly with colour and her eyes glimmered with the promise of a coming storm, as biting and brilliant as the magic sparking within her hands. Neva would have liked to paint a portrait of the Warrior like this, were she only able to capture the intensity of her presence. It would be a wonderful addition to her personal gallery.

(Satella had also mentioned something about “art therapy”, now that she thought about it.)

“I'm certain I can get him to work,” Satella insisted. The force of her gaze swung to Birdy, as if her will alone would be enough to restore it to rights. “I just need to find the right space in his shields to sneak a current through.”

“‘It’, dear, not ‘him’,” Neva reminded her. Her friend’s insistence on personalizing the spying tool her handler had entrusted her with unsettled something within her that she wasn't willing to examine. “You've been at this for over a bell now. Perhaps it's time to consider letting it go?”

Those stormy eyes were back on her now. “And leave you without a friend? I'm not that heartless, Nevachka.”

And that - well. “Birdy was not a friend,” Neva bit out. “It was a means of spying on every little thing I saw, and heard and said. Including you, Elle.”

The maddening woman just shrugged. “As you say. But if I can't repair him, then maybe…” she trailed off in thought. One slender finger, still coated in sparkling levin, tapped at her chin and Neva watched the sparks bounce off her skin, glimmering like a little contained field of starfall around her mouth. “I wonder if Cid would be able to help, or perhaps even Nero. Though I'm sure the latter would have to be bribed for his assistance. Do you know if Birdy had memory storage for the live feed?”

Neva resisted the urge to pinch her nose and took a particularly large gulp of her pilfered coffee instead.

#my writing #ffxivwrite2023 #ffxivwrite #Elle: i am not leaving you without your oldest friend #Neva pretending to not understand: what friend??? it was a tool in my lonely existence #also Neva: please let's not have me meet my previous boss I know we both defected but that's just NOT going to go well

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pinkafropuff · 11 months

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the weak and the strong

The Warrior of Light was closer to them, true. In fact, Alisaie might say too close. There was almost a desperation about it, to be sure they were all safe, hale and hearty and whole, and all she could think was that maybe, just maybe, the young Elezen had not been the only one devastated by the Scions' sudden departure that day in the alliance meeting. But that would be moot. Alisaie did not say how, but she knew it to be true. For one thing, she thought a great many things about Aran- things that were obviously different than the other ways people saw the Warrior of Light (but mayhaps that was the point, something, something perceptions, humanity, opinions) and it came out sometimes in words.

In the beginning she thought nothing of her in particular; strange eyes, silent, maybe a little mean. A little curt, lest she say nothing at all. Then rude, though the others Scions did not see it so; that is simply how Aran 'is' they said, and Alisaie thought herself better for not spending time with her. Now, of course, she knew the truth. That there was real, honest truth in that assertation that Aran was simply not like the rest of them. She was sure more than anything when in Kugane and then Doma that Aran Utar separated the world into the strong and the weak-

And that Alisaie Leveilleur, the younger of the two youngest scions, was weak.

----

"You never stay very long, do you?" It was easy to say whatever she wanted now that the shadow of war had passed them over, now that most of the fighting was done. Aran was not one for parties, true, and they had learned it the hard way; Alisaie herself had heard about the debacle with her disappearing for some number of months, leaving only a letter in her wake from her brother to find. "I'll admit, the crowds are a bit much, but you could at least stay for a drink or two to make the rest of them happy."

From her place in the Ala Mhigan Quarter, The Warrior of Light only turned her head. It was as though she had not heard those words, as though she had ignored or otherwise let them pass her by, eyes fixed on a particular point past the stone walls flanking them all about. There weren't any others milling about- Alisaie had been sure of that, given finding Aran was its own ordeal- so it wouldn't be possible for her to not hear, unless she was really trying not to, so she found herself marching over to the Auri and stopping just short of her armored figure. "Did you hear me at all?"

She did not turn at first. If a storm had struck right then, Alisaie wondered if Aran would have noticed. Instead of waiting for an answer, she chanced to step around her so that Aran could see her face, which, when she did, earned a look of surprise.

She really couldn't hear me? How very queer. "Did you hear a word of what I said?"

Brown irises, smoldering at the edges. It reminded her of an eclipse. After a moment or so, she answered with a simple headshake- the most curt that Alisaie had ever seen before.

A sigh. A very heavy sigh. "Look, if you don't want to hang out with the rest of us, I won't stop you, but you'd better at least leave your linkpearl on this time before running off. Alphinaud clucked about like a hen for weeks last time and I do not want to go through dealing with him again."

The change was subtle. So subtle that only one so close could have recognized it. No, maybe it wasn't how close she was, maybe it was how much she was paying attention. Because for a moment, right there, between the eyes and mouth of the vaunted hero, was a look of confusion and grief. Confusion. As though it was the worst thing Alisaie could have said to her in the world, and least obvious solution to make. Her eyes slid to one side, its meaning unknown, but when they re-centered on Alisaie's face, she gestured with her head towards the outskirts of the city. "No," was all she said at first. Her eyes closed in thought before she shrugged and smiled- smiled- and said, "I'm just gettin' some air ✨ Might hunt, you know?"

There was something really irritating about the whole phrase. Just say what you mean. "Aren't you tired? You must be, after all the fighting. I know I'm rather winded, and...you know, no one will be upset if you just take a rest or something." She gestured with one hand. "A real rest, I mean. Not...whatever it is you do when you vanish and come back with a different hairstyle."

Aran winced- visibly winced- before tilting her head and closing her eyes again. Unable to create an answer Alisaie was satisfied with, she turned away. The sun was setting already. If she was going hunting, it would be dangerous (at least in Alisaie's mind, as she didn't have night vision of her own like some other races) so aloud she said, "If you still want to go hunting, I'll come along. It's been a little while since I stretched without a life-threatening situation."

She did not seem happy about this. In fact, the Warrior of Light seemed more apprehensive than ever, which almost made her grind her own teeth. Typical.

"...if it's that much of a bother," she began, bile rising up her throat, heat roaring in her ears, but was cut off just as Aran decided,

"Okay. Let's go."

Alisaie's head snapped up. It astonished her so much her mouth flew wide open- only to snap shut again, almost with the clack of her teeth.

Aran's hand rose then, palm flat and straight in front of Alisaie's face. As though to make her pause. Conditions. A pause, then two or three- then she signed, carefully and slowly, 'I cannot protect you this time.'

The words may not have had a sound but they buzzed in her ears, burned at her throat. Bitterness leaving a taste in her mouth, she shrugged and half-shouted, "I didn't want you to!"

Why wasn't she looking at her? Because she offended her? Gods, they were all the same. Looking down on her. Especially now, especially about this. At least Aran was strong enough to look down. At least Aran said it outright, to her face.

Or so she thought. For a while. A long, long while. She remembered it again, on the First, the weariness in her steps as she crossed the threshold into Alisaie's quarters and laid down on the couch, throwing one arm over her face and letting out a long exhale.

"Who told you to-" She began, and then stopped when she saw the shorn parts of her hair, the blighted white burns on her scales, the dents in armor in need of more than a single mending. "Oh, gods, do you- I can call Alphinaud, or-"

The Warrior of Light- of Darkness- waved her free hand carelessly. Instead she just lie there, completely still, for a long, long time. When she could see Aran's face again, it struck her that it had always been there, hiding but entirely misunderstood. Resigned. Crumbling beneath their fingertips.

'I cannot protect you this time.' She'd said. But what she meant...

I cannot protect myself.

How many times did you die? She wanted to ask. But she couldn't. Instead Alisaie sat on the ground beside that couch and stayed with her for a while, not saying anything, feeling useless and much like a child. After a while, she hugged her knees. Aloud, she said, "When this is over, I'll buy you those sweets I promised."

Silence. For a brief moment Alisaie worried that Aran might have died (a stupid thing to think, of course, but a worry nonetheless) before she shifted and let her arm slip away from her face. A great many things drifted across that face, between the scales on her forehead as they wrinkled and the still-healing scar near her left cheek, and when they settled she closed her startling eyes and whispered in a low and crackling voice that Alisaie had never heard before.

"Yeah. I'd like that."

#aran utar #ffxiv #alisaie leveilleur #yeah. im happy about it.#shadowbringers spoilers #stormblood spoilers #fic

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cidnangarlond · 7 months

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anyway it is weird that x'rhun just never shows up in the story when it would have been like appropriate to. alisaie literally going "man my mentor should be here. wonder where he is. oh well!" like where's he fucked off to again. clearly he showed up for a hot minute in the ala mhigan quarter with nashmeira walking and talking so clearly he's around and would have been before setting off to garlemald like......... okay

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xiv-wolfram · 1 year

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Far From Free - Comic Script

Endwalker - lvl 85

Wolfram almost turns into a blasphemy and then does the healer role quest. (It starts out Rough but this is a happy one.)

CW: Alcoholism, Mental Health, PTSD, mention of past suicide attempt, hand-holding

Wolfram Saga Comics (Chronological)

This is the script for a future comic. Posting for those who don’t want to wait to get the story. Numbers indicate frame number. A/B mean a frame is split.

Part 1

Night shot of Ala Mhigan palace. Narrator - "You’ll want to have read at least all the other EW comics before this one for context. Wolfram has been working with the Scions to address the Final Days. After fighting Blasphemies in Vanaspati and Radz-at-Han he received a summons from Ala Mhigo stating that they needed help with a powerful Blasphemy there. He arrives and goes straight to Raubahn's quarters. The last time they saw each other, Wolf had just discovered he was no longer possessed by the voidsent. He had an emotional reaction to the news as well as many questions that would have to remain unanswered as the world needed him. Also relevant - Raubhan basically started the Eorzean equivalent of a support group for his fellow Ala Mhigan soldiers during Shadowbringers after seeing how many of them had similar struggles to his own. Wolf doesn’t know about it."

Wolf enters Rau's condo in Ala Mhigo. Straight face. Rau greets him at the door.

Wolf smiles, looking exhausted - "Hello Commander Aldynn. I came as soon as I could - You have a blasphemy you need help with?"

Rau grins - "Why thank you for accepting my request - Wolfram Vought, Champion of Eorzea and Warrior of Light. Oh and… I believe you’re a Flame Sergeant now? My apologies. I should have checked with my son before your arrival."

Rau laughs. Wolf, confused. Thought - 'Of course I immediately make an arse of myself…I'm so tired…'

A) Rau smiles warmly - "Hells Wolf - I just wanted an excuse to speak with you and figured help with the blasphemy was an added boon." B) Wolf embarrassed - "I'm sorry Rau. I'm ashamed of my recent behavior with you. I thought formality would make this easier."

Rau smiles and pats Wolf's shoulder in a reassuring gesture - "Don't worry about formality. You have nothing to be ashamed of. However, there is something I need to discuss with you." Thought - 'He's already so tense. Looks like he hasn't slept in days…Is this a bad idea?'

Rau gestures to an armchair, concerned - "This will be difficult to hear, but I believe you need to in order to move on. Please come in and take a seat." Thought - 'Now more than ever…what he's going through is dangerous. I have to tell him. I hope it helps more than hurts.'

A) Wolf, sitting down, worried - "Alright then. What is it?" B) Rau sitting down, looking at Wolf with a thoughtful expression - "After you left Garlemald I had many questions on the nature of voidsent. I wondered how it could just be...gone. After twenty years."

Wolf nods, looking tired - "I wondered the same, but haven't had the time to properly question the "how" of it all. I can hardly believe it’s gone… and would it be able to come back somehow? Am I *truly free*? I’m trying to focus on my duty but it’s been weighing on my mind."

A) Rau smiles sadly - "I thought you may have that concern… I have a theory. If you would like to hear it? It's horrible, but it makes sense. …is this something you feel up to talking about right now?" B) Wolf curious - "I've had a world's worth of horrible lately. Why not a little more?"

Rau worried, gestures to a bottle of wine on the small table between the armchairs - "Well it's... Why don't you have a drink while I explain?" Wolf eyebrow raise - "No thank you. Go on." Thought - 'Maybe I should…suppose it's there if I need it.'

Rau nods and continues - "After I returned to Ala Mhigo I had a contact in Ul'dah speak with some …unsavory people. A guild that knows much about voidsent. The summoning rituals and pacts between mortals. They also spoke with members of the thaumaturge's guild who had successfully banished one from another member."

Wolf slightly annoyed, eyes closed, hand in head - “I wasn't idle all these years. I went in search of a way to rid myself of it. I never told anyone my story directly of course. Every banishment ritual I found puts the caster in just as much danger as the person possessed.”

Wolf looks worried - " I could not risk another's life just so that I may be free of my burden."

A) Rau nods - “Well - I sought my own answers and came to the same conclusion.” B) Rau smiles sadly - “Which was that if the hellhound bound within you was banished it would be no small thing. You would have known. Which leaves only one conclusion.”

A) Wolf furrows his brow. B) Ru apologetic face - "That it did not reside within you."

A) Wolf shocked and angry B) Wolf stands up, yelling - “ NOT THERE?!?! THEN WHAT THE HELLS HAPPENED TO MY VILLAGE?” Rau getting out of chair, worried.

A) Rau stands up, worried /deny - “No! I only meant - “ B) Wolf raging - “WHOSE BLOOD WAS I COVERED WITH?! WHOSE BODIES DID I BURN?! WHOSE -”

A) Rau gets close and covers Wolf's mouth with his hand - "Pray, calm yourself - lest you confess your crimes to all of Ala Mhigo. I know the possession was real. I meant after the deed was done." B) Wolf confused face

A) Rau takes his hand away. Wolf calm but confused "... What do you mean?" B) Rau smiles apologetically, resting his hand on Wolf’s shoulder - “What do you remember? Exactly. “

Wolf looks sad, looking down, eyes tearing up - “Well… I summoned the hound. It took over before I could even communicate with it. Killed the Garleans, villagers, and then my family. Almost like it was saving them for last. My grandmother was able to suppress it before she died, but told me it was there, dormant, and that I must have strong willpower and control my emotions to keep it contained. I went to the falls to jump. Stood there for what felt like hours, but I couldn't do it. I went back to the village for some supplies and my parents’ rings. Then set everything to torch before fleeing to Gridania.”

Rau smiles sadly, caressing the side of Wolf’s face - "I'm sorry to make you relive it, but I need specifics." Thought - "So those were his parents rings I packed up after we ended things…" Wolf looking at him sadly, more tears in his eyes.

Wolf looks away, miserable expression, light tears falling. Thought - ‘It’s been so long since I’ve talked about this…’ Says - “I remember bits and pieces. Sometimes I was in my body - watching through my eyes, but with no control. At other moments I was somewhere else... A dark place. I remember -"

Wolf’s head bent down, weeping, covering his mouth. Rau worried, puts arm on Wolf’s back - “Pray continue. I'm so sorry but I need you to go on.” Thought - ‘Thrice damn me for making him go through this again.’

Tumblr mandated break.

Wolf closes his eyes, face streaked with tears - "I remember tearing my parents apart… Claws shredding them to pieces... There was blood and viscera everywhere. I only knew their bodies afterwards by their wedding rings.”

Rau holds him, worried - “That must have been awful." Wolf resting the side of his head against Rau’s chest, crying with a haunted look - “It was... Hungry... So hungry. And *happy*. The thing was *happy*. …*I was happy*?”

A) Rau looks sad, light tears in his eyes. - “That wasn't you, Pup. It was a monster using you. B) Wolf buries his head in Rau’s chest *muffled* - “It was so hard to tell where I stopped and it began.”

Rau holding him close, protectively - “and next?” Wolf *muffled* - “I don't remember. I was in the dark place again. The only thing I’m grateful for that night was not seeing whatever it did to Ana and Klaus.” Rau thought - ‘Why would it spare him that? …after the joy it felt showing him what it did to his parents?’

Wolf moves away, looking at Rau sadly with tears in his eyes - “and then... I was back. My mind had control once more. I was on the road just outside of town on my back staring up at the stars. My grandmother was a few feet from me, her small broken body barely clinging to life. I rushed to her. She whispered her warning to me and passed. There was…anger in her eyes. She looked at me with a hatred I’d never seen from her before save for the few times she’d spoken of her parents.”

A) Wolf crying, looking at Rau with a pleading expression - “Was that enough?” B) Rau smiles sadly - “I believe so. Your account supports my theory.”

Rau takes Wolf’s hand, frowning with worry and guilt - “Wolfram… I’m convinced your grandmother banished the voidsent. That act was what killed her.”

Wolf furrows his brow and looks away with a lost expression - “You mean she… lied to me? …about all of it?” Raubahn nods and smiles apologetically - “Aye, exactly that.”

Wolf falls back into the chair, bent over, looking at the ground. Confused - “Why? Why would she -”

Wolf looks up at Rau in horror - “- she thought I would do it again! She thought I was so weak and selfish that I would be consumed by the hunger for power. As our ancestors had been.”

Rau steps forward and puts his hand on Wolf’s back comfortingly. Wolf doubles over, head in his hands. - “Everything… everything I’ve done. …Everything I *haven’t done*. Everything I’ve given up. …It was all because of a *lie*. A lie she felt she told to protect others from *me*. She… she saw what I really am… she saw the monster.”

Rau crouches down, worried - “Wolf, it was horrible what you did, but she judged you incorrectly. You have done great things. Helped so many people. You are no monster.”

Wolf starts having the blasphemy aura, lost expression - “Why didn’t she kill me? She was powerful. She could have been rid of me and the hellhound both. Why didn’t she kill me?! She should have killed me!”

A) Rau shocked. B) Rau worried, kneeling down in front of Wolf, hand on his arm. Thought - 'Dammit! I didn't think! We should have dealt with the blasphemy before I told him! I’m such a fool!’

Rau pulls Wolf’s arms down away from his face with his forearm. Thought ‘…Maybe it will work for this too?'

Rau holds Wolf’s chin to make him look him in the eyes - "Wolf - please hear me. Look into my eyes. Focus on my voice. She was wrong! She didn’t understand the kind of man you are. What you did sprung not only from revenge or a hunger for power, but from a desire to protect your loved ones. She made assumptions based on her own past. You are a good man and this world *needs* you. *I need you.*”

Rau still holding his chin, eyes tearing up but he’s putting on a smile for Wolf - “I know it doesn’t feel this way right now, but this is a *good* thing. Her lie prevented you from the life you wanted…the life we wanted. Yet now that you know the truth you can finally decide what you want for yourself. I love you with my whole heart. I'll be here for you through anything. No matter what form our bond takes. I'm sorry for my behavior lately. This is too important to throw away as I did - especially when you were simply trying to protect me. Even if all you desire of me is friendship - you shall have it.”

Wolf’s aura starting to fade. Rau smiles encouragingly - “You are loved by so many others as well. Where would the Scions be without you? How many times have you aided them? Made them laugh? Saved them from certain death? Hells, cooked them dinner? They are your family. It would devastate each and every one of them to lose you. You have so much to stay around for. Do not let this despair consume you."

The aura fades from Wolf and he puts his arms around Rau. Wolf crying and resting his forehead against Rau’s, eyes closed. Rau smiles, arm around Wolf - “You’ll be alright. Everything will be alright.” Wolf sobs. - “Th-Thank you…thank you…” Thought - ‘That was… far too close.’

Camera zoomed out. Wolf sobbing - “thank you…thank you...”

Part 2

Some time later. They’re sitting back in the chairs conversing. Wolf confused - ‘ - yet one thing I don't understand… I've literally woken up and watched my hands become claws. Seen them covered in blood.”

Rau ponders - "Well…the mind is a powerful thing. I’ve had nightmares where I wake up and see things for a moment as if the dream isn’t quite over. Hells, I even feel my arm sometimes." Wolf looks worried - “You’re saying that it was all in my head?!” Thought - ‘So I *am* mad… if anyone knew…would they still trust me to save this star?’

A) Rau smiles warmly - “...Yes, but there is nothing to be ashamed of. When people see terrible things, sometimes those things have a way of staying around.” B) Wolf - “So…my episodes where I can’t breathe and my heart races haven’t been a hellhound trying to rip itself out through my chest but were - what? A reaction to being reminded of my possession and the death of my family?” Thought - ‘I’ve never seen him so comfortable talking about this kind of thing before. …something has changed with him.’

A) Rau smiles calmly - “Aye, very possibly. I’ve met some other people with a similar condition recently. I should have realized the similarities with your episodes. There were so many little signs… even back when we were together. Not just the nightmares or the times you went into a panic. Like how sometimes the smell of roasting meat made you ill. Or that day at the market - where a child was screaming because his mother wouldn’t get him a sweet and you covered your ears as if you were in pain.” B) Rau smiles sadly - “There was a lot that I didn’t notice those days. Perhaps I didn’t want to notice… because then I would have had to acknowledge my own struggles. I’m so sorry for not being who you needed back then.” Thought - ‘It’s likely not the right time to mention that I am that person now…’

A) Wolf surprised - “Gods that…that does make me see things in a new light. It’s more rare now, but it still happens. When I was trying to save this village in Thavnair from Blasphemies - as I ran through there were so many bodies burning. The stench was unbearable. Once the fighting was over I actually stopped to vomit. Got out of there as fast as I could.” B) Wolf ponders - “So this is …wounds that don’t heal properly… yet in the mind? Like a scar on the soul?”

Rau smiles sadly - “Aye, well put. With the proper care, I believe our scars can heal in time. In fact… There is a group of former resistance members here who have these struggles, among others. Occasionally we meet and check in with each other. If you would like to join us sometime we’d be happy to have you. They are sworn to secrecy as some of them have also committed crimes - yet even then you need not divulge more than you are comfortable with.”

Wolf surprised - “This helps them? Talking to each other has lessened their struggles?” Thought - ‘I suppose this explains the change in him…’

Rau beams - “Aye, those I spoke to said that the frequency of their episodes reduced as well as their nightmares. Of course it is not my place to suggest what you do but… I simply wanted you to know that you’re not alone.”

Wolf smiles sadly - “Please give no thought to “your place” when it comes to me. It hurt to hear everything tonight, but there is also a sort of peace in knowing the truth no matter how painful. You’ve given me a lot to think about Rau…Thank you.”

They stand and hug (friendly). Wolf thought - ‘It's amazing how supportive he is.... I don’t deserve such kindness…’

Wolf pulls back a bit and looks at Rau, tearing up. - “I'm so very sorry for everything. If only I had known all of this earlier. Things would have been different. …I think both our lives would… look different …perhaps.”

Rau smiles sadly, thought - ‘Alright Raubahn Aldynn, whatever you do - *do not* kiss him right now.’

Rau steps back, smiling - “There is nothing for you to apologize to me for. You were deceived. Now you know and can move forward with that knowledge. Doing what you feel is right for you. I will always be your friend and support you however I can.”

Wolf smiles awkwardly, hand to head, looking at the window - “Well, would you mind supporting me tonight by letting me sleep here? I bet that window seat would be cozy with a few blankets. I'm scared to be by myself after what just happened. I'm meant to save the world from those things, not become one myself. We can find and destroy it first thing tomorrow. ”

Rau smiles - “Of course my friend, you're welcome here. Indeed the window seat is good for a nap, but the bed is more comfortable. You take it. I daresay you need a good night's rest after everything.”

Wolf blushes lightly - “Well you know, it does look quite large. I don’t see any harm in sharing… if you’re alright with that?”

Rau smiles awkwardly - “Aye, no harm at all. I'm alright with anything you want…anything at all.” Thought - '”Anything”! Seven hells all he needs is for me to stop coming on to him!'

They’re in bed laying *VERY* far apart facing away from each other. Wolf smiling, eyes closed - “Thank you again, for everything. Goodnight my friend.” Thought - 'He truly is the best person I know…' Rau smiling, eyes closed - "Goodnight, Wolf.“

The next morning, Wolf is spooning Rau. Rau holds Wolf’s hand to his chest.

Wolf’s eyes closed. Rau smiles. Thought - ‘Suppose there's no harm in pretending to be asleep until he realizes what he’s doing…’

Rau’s eyes closed. Wolf opens his eyes, smiling at Rau in front of him. Thought - ‘He looks so peaceful… would be rude of me to move and disturb him…’

Part 3

Zoomed out shot. Wolf and Rau walking around the market in Uldah.

Rau looking around, worried - “Gods...why did she choose now of all times to run off? What if she's been abducted, or run afoul of a beast?” Thought - ‘Could she be in one of these pots?!’

They stop in the alley between the Sapphire exchange and Pearl Lane. Wolf puts a hand on Rau’s shoulder, winks and smiles - “Worry not. If my favorite little sister Alisae was missing I’d be upset too, but we’ll find Liara.” Thought - ‘Not that I’d call her that to her face…she’d either blush or punch me.’

A) Rau smiles awkwardly - "You're right, I know, but it's hard not to worry. Wolf.. May I ask you something a bit odd?" B) Wolf raises an eyebrow, confused - "Go ahead."

A) Rau ponders comically - "When you speak of your found family - the Scions…why do you think of yourself as an older brother?" B) Wolf confused - "What do you mean?"

Rau smiles awkwardly - "Pup she's 16. You're old enough to be her father. And you certainly act like it. So…why do you see yourself as a brother?" Wolf surprised, blushing - "Oh…gods you're right! Why do I do that?!"

Rau /deny - "I'm sorry, forget I mentioned it. It's nice that you're young at heart. I'm just an old man who doesn't understand."

Wolf grins and points threateningly at Rau - "I've warned you before to stop calling yourself old. We're practically the same age. So I'm happy to kick your geriatric ass if you don't speak kindly about yourself."

A) Rau grins flirtatiously - "Of all the things you could do to it, that's what you'd choose?" B) Wolf turns red, looking away - "I um… I didn't. I mean. I um, no you des-" Thought - '!?!?!'

Wolf standing, arms crossed, looking in the opposite direction and blushing. Rau grinning - "Oh calm down I'm just teasing you. Bit if a distraction from the Sultana situation." Thought - ‘Ah, the rare flustered Wolfram. I’d enjoy this much more were I not concerned for Nanamo.’

Wolf still blushing with eyes averted but smiling - "Oh. Ok then…Come on, let's keep searching." Holds out his hand to Rau.

A & B) (close camera, big focus on the lewdness) Rau takes his hand.

They keep walking while holding hands, passing the spot where they had their first kiss 15 years ago. Rau thought - 'This is nice…although I hope he's not feeling pressured. I need to give him room to process everything that's happened and focus on his duty to our star…Aye, but a little hand holding is innocent enough.'

Wolf smiling but internally freaking out. (Indicate with *?!?!?!* light text around him) Thought - 'Why did I do that?! It was almost instinctual! I haven't decided anything…I still don't deserve someone like him. The manner is different than I'd thought but I'm no less broken. Is this leading him on? Am I simply comforting my friend?! Damnit what am I doing?!'

Rau beaming. Thought - 'Clearly he's still interested in me… but will he admit it to himself? He overthinks everything…After he saves the world I may need to do some convincing.'

Wolfram Saga Comics (Chronological)

#ffxiv #ffxiv wol #oc wolfram #hyur highlander #ffxiv oc #hyur #wolbahn #wolcomic #raubahn #raubahn aldynn #wolfbahn #endwalker spoilers #ffxiv spoilers #ptsd #mental illness #alcoholism #mention of past suicide attempt #hand holding #WolframSaga

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voidsentprinces · 7 months

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He wasn't satisified at the end.

Zenos is first introduced in Post-Heavensward to a small, darkened smirk. He is then re-introduced in Stormblood walking along to the pomp and circumstance of his arrival festival in the Ala Mhigan Quarter. He sits on his chair like a bored house cat. His tone when speaking to the gathered officer is soft, whispy, and absolutely empty. A whisper and nothing more. His voice only raising in annoyance when openly and verbally dismissing his father's rule of the Empire as a snide remark and then again when seeing a passion inside Fordola to "hunt her own". The entire battle with at Rhalgr's Reach is followed by again a bored tone, he expects great things from Lyse and wants to be surprised. But he knows at a glance he'll find her wanting. Never using his blade until he has grown bored of her, his voice raising again when Y'shtola surprises him with a barrier but after cutting her down, he has them tied up, but not killed simply walking off without a care. Next he faces Pippin, Alisaie, and the Warrior of Light with only us surviving the opening moves, after scrambling around dodging his various aoes, he grows bored of us and walks away whispering that we're weak and then exits stage right. The massacre is not worth his attention, he returns to his throne at the castle to maintain his mundane lifestyle.

Next, we see Zenos, he walked through the ruins of a Doman village long abandoned after the occupation. Sighing and sulking that there is not a person in sight to ignite his passion again. That the people are more like empty shells than passionate beasts. The life beaten out of them slowly and masterfully over the last years. Spirits broken, he immediately locks onto Yugiri's presence. The one thing within a thousand malms that holds the passion to fight him. And he deflects her masterfully, but wants to see how far her hatred of him will take her. Sending the lackey Garlean soldiers after her while he busies himself with us. Finding her need for vengeance to be lacking, not because she lacks drive but because she pursues it for all the wrong reasons. Not heeding to wait for her countrymen, not out of duty to her lord which would bring Gosetsu with her but vengeance for the sake of vengeance. Which Zenos quickly demonstrates will just put her in the grave, he then finds us far more spirited. We are the driving force behind the salvation of Eorzea, when we fought in Ala Mhigo, we were fighting a war that wasn't ours for a people we didn't know. But now, after seeing the tragedy of the Reach and rallying the Confederate Pirates to push Garlemald out and seeing the state of Namai we have begun to have a drive for our revolution at last there is something there to actually fight for rather than simply being a hero. Zenos sees this and wants to see if we truly have the mettle to save this spiritless ghost of a country. Though he easily toys with us we manage to do damage to his armor. Metaphorically thus finally breaking a piece of the Garlean Empire's hold on the region and promise to break its entire grip on Doma and Ala Mhigo. Zenos is pleased by this, announcing how right he was to spare us, and his voice raises in passionate esctasy as he orders us to live and fight for the moment between the seconds. While the members of Namai arrive to the same tune of the revolt he was personally originally sent to put down. He is ready to slaught the Namai people but Alisaie and Gosetsu's quick feet create an opening for escape. And Zenos appreciates it, because this gives him a weak but good excuse as any to leave the field.

Next, we see Zenos he learns of the Ala Mhigan stationed Garleans discovering Omega's captured cage of Shinryu. Praising the Allagan House who bested even the original Bahamut once. He sees a chance for a great and glorious battle with us for the fate of all he has seen. A way to ignite Ala Mhigo and Doma. A way to play his part as tyrant to perfection and that begins with Yotsuyu. He could just cut her down like many officers before her. But what does he do, he walked up and grabs her by the hair. A simple act of cruelty, not good enough to cut down but to remind her of her days as a cortesan, able to do nothing as an angry client grabs onto her. Psychological abuse as he reprimands her to ignite her hatred and cruelty and malice. She has been lofty viceroy for too long, remember what brought her to him. Remember where he can easily send her back to. Remember her worm of a brother laughing and mocking. And then he leaves knowing this will set Yotsuyu on the war path. And begin forging the Champion of the Savages into someone he can finally fight fully and completely.

The next time, Yotsuyu has clearly failed, he kills the messanger because he now has to set up the next path. The Warrior of Light will return and he could easily summon his gunships and personally slaughter the entire revolution there and then. But Fordola is here and Fordola, who was mistreated by her own people for her parent's fealty to Gaius. Is recognized, Zenos preys on her pride and want for recognition to ascend to Garlean military rank and feel like it was all worth something. He gifts her a gunblade from an officer and she knows this means he expects great things from her. The Prince, the heir apparently of the entire Empire, finally recognizes her and sends her to guard the bridge in the Fringes. Knowing she would fail, but she does more than fail, she ignites the beast tribe to summon a Primal against them. This allows him to prepare, she returns to him, tail between her legs, having failed but he needs her to be MORE than that. More than cowardly officers who bear bad news and are cut down. He grows tired of the mummary and ignites her want for power and grants her the power of resonant and sends her forth to fire upon her own men in the Castrum from Albania. He reminds the Warrior of what is at stake, they cannot falter, their enemy, no, HE is a power that should not be trifled with and so he sits back and waits...and wait...and waits...as we take back the Fringes and the Peaks and the Ala Mhigan Quarter, taking Fordola captive and retaking Krile, a bait to draw us forward. He has something we want and we shall fight for it. We make his lupin allies turn sides, the aerial machines are vanished by Doman reinforcements, we blow open his gates, destroy his magitek and slay his scientists, and then there is just...in the throne room. His voice a whisper no more, a booming excitement from his lips as he shouts in psychotic fervor. Pushed back at last, he draws us to the Royal Menagarie where he speaks to us with earnest. The first excitement he has felt since he was twelve and slew his swordsman teacher. He knows we are a god slayer and becomes one with Shinryu and clashes with us in the heavens. He falls in defeat but isn't disappointed or angry, he is content, the hunter has indeed become the hunted. When speaking to any others present his voice returns to a whisper of disinterest when addressing Lyse and then he places his blade to his throat. Wishing us a fond farewell, disappointed it couldn't continue. He takes his own life.

Only to end up in the body of a rebel fighter. A second chance at life? To make amends? What tripe, he shall go forth and do battle with us once more. A second chance at combat. But he is always a step slower, a step too late. He must be better, he hears reports of the crown princed possessed by a devil defeated by the Warrior before being forced to retreat. So he makes for Garlemald. He enters the throne room and learns just as he observed from his servants, that reality itself is nothing but a farce and so he chooses to burn it. He retakes his body from Elidibus. And only raising of his voice is when he finally strikes down Varis. The battle with the Azure Dragoon and Black Wolf are paltry in comparison to that grand moment. And he cares nothing for the Empire. So he leaves, only for Fandaniel to approach him and tell him much and more as they prepare the final act of the star. Zenos collecting many pawns to throw at the Warrior of Light each and everyone falling. Until at last he is reunited across a dinner table with us. He plays his part knowing this is not final act, he wishes to share with us, his experience since being revived and leaves us the body he once inhabited. In an attempt to repeat his Ala Mhigan campaign in capturing Krile. He goes to kill the Scions, dressed as us. But is stopped, beckoning us to his tower. Only to be whisked away to the Moon as the final act is upon them. But...Fandaniel ruins it all. And ruins Zenos's mood, seeing that we are still not focused on gunning for him personally, he sulks and walks away. Wandering the wilderness hunting down the beasts of the Final Days but they bring him no joy, no burning passion. Alisaie confronts him over this later and he sets out to seek a reason for the Warrior to face him and understand his friend. Realizing he cannot force us to fight him. He seeks us out one last time and aids us in combating the Endsinger. Before offering a chance to walk away or fight him. Either way, he is ready to accept either but is esctatic to finally be granted a battle either as the visage of the hero, reflection of himself, or someone who is tired of his presence. His voice raises once more as he yells and shout with glee throughout the battle. Easily outmatching him at every turn and yet we are the only ones that could and after a brutal beat down he lays there. Disappointed that it had to end again. A third life? A fourth life? Would he ever truly be satisfied? No. And so he breathes his last, knowing, he would never be satied and never get such a battle again. There is nothing for him anymore and so he is left alone to decay at the edge of the universe. Only the legacy of the horrors he unleashed to grant him any thought in the Warrior's mind. They have grown tired of him and moved on to other things, just as he had grown tired of much and now it was time for him to move on as well. He could provide us nothing, and so the disappointment sets in and he succumbs to his wounds.

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thorneyes · 1 year

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Fic: Shallow Soil

Characters: Rohesia and Q'ndai

Summary: A rough night in the Ala Mhigan Quarter.

A/n: a fic I wrote a while back when I was still working out Roh's backstory, before I even had q'ndai as a RP character, I think.

Contents: Description of injury, life in Imperial-occupied Ala Mhigo, homeless orphans.

Cold seeped into Ala Mhigo at night, settling over the salt flats, soaking through the stones of the city that had been warmed by the light of the sun through the day. In the hottest days around midsummer, the cold was a blessing when it came in the early hours of the morning. On these nights crawling their way away from midwinter, though, the cold made sleeping uncomfortable. Rohesia hunched her shoulders in her thin shirt and tucked her hands under her elbows. If she’d had her druthers, she’d be retreating to the back room of the hideout, where they’d piled every scrap of fabric they’d ever scavenged into the little sandstone hollow, making an insulated bunk. The younger kids were already tucked away back there, warm and sleeping soundly as Rohesia waited out here.

She’d be warm and sleeping herself, if Q'ndai weren’t late.

The Seeker boy was overdue by hours, and the more time passed, the more tension piled up in Rohesia’s shoulders. Her jaw was clenched as she glared into the dark alleyway that hid their little hideout, nurturing a little spark of anger against the cold. “Godsdammit, Ndai,” she whispers to herself. “Bastard. Shite-headed selfish Seeker…”

A thud from the entrance of the alley had her biting down on her tongue as she stiffened, listening intently. There was another thud, a muffled groan. The scraping sound of stone on stone. Then, a figure barely outlined against the night skies.

“Thorneyes,” whispered a familiar voice. “Thorneyes, you there?”

The little spark of anger caught. “Ndai,” she hissed as she jerked to her feet. “I’m going to strangle you with your own tail—”

“Shh,” Ndai interrupted hastily. “Don’—don’ do tha’. Don’ freak out.” He was slurring his words, and swaying in place. As she watched he stumbled, his shoulder colliding hard with the brick wall of the alley. “Thorneyes—”

“What did you do?”

Ndai nearly fell over when she grabbed him by the shoulder. “Don’ wake them up,” he stammered, then, when she gripped him hard, gasped. “Ah—” This close, she didn’t smell the fumes of ale or the sickly sweet of somnus, but the bitter tang of copper. Ndai’s hand closed over hers, clumsy and weak. He breathed in, quick and shallow. “Roh, help me.”

In the faint light of the stars, she could barely make out his eyes, wide and dark.

“Siddown,” she whispered, pushing at his shoulder. He gasped and wobbled but moved with her, sliding down the wall until he was slumped against it. She reached out to push his hair back from his face, only to find it sticky and matted with blood. “What happened?”

His breathing hitched and his arms curled around his ribs. “Imperials,” he said. “Jus—Jus’ fix it, Roh.”

“R-right.”

Rohesia closed her eyes. She could feel his pulse beneath her hand, beating rapidly, fluttering with the churn of his aether. She could feel the damage like dull bursts of red light behind her eyes. Bruises, heavy and dark, mottled the pattern of his skin, from his shoulders to his sides to his face. Deeper than that, the damage was worse. Sharp, bright lines webbed along his ribs, and a hollow throb swelled within his skull. She bit her tongue. None of these were injuries she hadn’t seen before, but the severity of them was new and frightening. She’d never had to heal so many at once before.

She took a shaky breath and reached out to the aether around her. The earth was easiest to draw on, surrounded as they were by stone. She pulled it into his chest and his head, layering it over the weakened bone. Then she reached for air, and further, straining her limits to pull on the feeling of the water of the lochs, brackish and salty as it was. She wove them together, to ease the swelling, to soothe the pain and heal the cuts. On the edges of her awareness, she heard his shaky breathing begin to ease and could feel the tension of pain begin to ease away.

When she finally opened her eyes, she thought for a moment that the white specks in her vision were the last motes of healing light until she registered the feeling of hovering somewhere above her own body. She blinked hard, and with careful, shaky movements, slumped against a nearby crate.

“Roh?” She heard Ndai say. “Hey, Thorneyes?” There was a rustle, then he pressed something into her hand. “Eat that, c’mon.”

Mechanically, she lifted the object to her mouth. Only halfway through a bite did she recognize the texture of a Faerie Apple. It amazed her, how quickly the tart taste dragged her back into her own body. By the time she had eaten down to the core, her fingers felt like hers again, rather than a puppet’s.

Ndai was still leaning back against the bricks, his eyes half-closed. The cuts and swelling were healed, though some of the bruises remained, and his hair and face were still stained with dried and drying blood. When he realized that she was looking at him, Ndai’s ears flicked. He mustered an echo of his usual confident smile. “So, what’d y’ think? Not bad, right?”

She looked down at the core in her hand, little more than stem and seeds. “I think you’ve answers to give me,” she said, leveling him with a glare, “about what in the seven hells y’ did to get the Garleans on your tail.”

Abruptly, Ndai’s expression sobered. “If I stole from them, y’ mean.” He shook his head slowly. “T’weren’t nothin’ like that. I just…” He waved a hand in the air. “I was hanging ‘bout the western markets t’day, and I picked up some work. Real, honest work. Just haulin’ boxes an’ all, but it took longer’n I expected. By the time I left the markets, it was dark.”

“So…”

Ndai’s laugh was weak. “Aye. Bloody curfew. I got caught slippin’ cross the main road, an’ they didn’ like it when I told ‘em I was headed home.”

Rohesia looked the Seeker over again. His clothes were dirty and bloodstained, clearly worse the wear for his encounter, but he held a rough sack that clearly wasn’t empty. “They didn’ take anythin’?”

“They threw it all on the cobbles, but I guess they didn’ care much for fruit,” he shrugged. “A few bruises, is all. I think I got it easy.”

A heavy weight sank into the pit of Rohesia’s stomach as she looked at Q'ndai’s still-bloody face, the bruise that lingered on his cheekbone. “Ndai…”

The smile on the miqo’te’s face was faint and cold in the dim starlight. “I reckon I’m sixteen summers by now, maybe older. That’s near enough to grown to be a conscript, or a Resistance spy, by their thinkin’.”

It felt like the cold of the night settled into her bones. Rohesia clenched her fists as she fought down a shiver. She glared at the boy. “Next time you’re not goin’ alone when y’ look for work,” she said stiffly.

“Thorneyes—”

“I’m not askin’.”

Ndai huffed something that was as much a laugh as it was a sigh. “You goin’ to save me from th’ Imperials, Thorneyes?”

Her eyes were burning, but Rohesia managed a scoff. “Twelve, no. I’m goin’t remind y’ to run like hells.”

This time Ndai definitely laughed, a startled, wavering sound. In the darkness she caught a glimmer in his eyes before he rubbed a hand across his face. “Don’t know what I’d do without you, Roh.”

#Thorneyes #Dust devils #My writing #Character backstory

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myreia · 11 months

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3, 19, and 29 for aurcred :> 💗

Thank you, Azia beloved! 🥰

3. By contrast, what was the moment that first made their ~heart~ Soft for the other person? Not necessarily a conscious realization of “I love this person,” but a moment that had them like “Oh…I adore them…”

The history of Aureia and Thancred's relationship is that of upwards momentum only for it to come to a screeching halt due to outside circumstances, losing touch or falling out of sync because of it, and then having to rebuild things from the ground up.

Aur's had three moments where this is the case.

The first: During the very early days of their friendship. They may have known each other for only a few months at the time. But he showed her Ul'dah, got her accustomed to the sights and sounds, the markets, all the unexpected little gems hidden away in different parts of the city. She would likely have never found her footing if not for this.

The second: Sitting on the roof of a building overlooking the Ala Mhigan quarter at night. Their friendship has been thoroughly tested by this point, they have both gone through a harrowing period of hating each other. Most of those issues have been worked through by now, but there's still a lot of hesitance in the way that they treat each other. He gives her something--the ring Nanamo originally gifted her back in Ul'dah, which she pawned for gil in Ishgard, and then it eventually showed up again in a market. There's a lot of feelings attached to that ring, and the fact that he found it, recognized it, and brought it back to her brings a lot of feelings flooding back.

The third: Walking the sands of Amh Araeng on the way to Malikah's Well. After everything they've just gone through, knowing what he put his life on the line for… He's battered and bruised from the fight, but she knows they're both going to be OK. It's a moment that crystalizes everything for her, but in a much deeper way than the other times.

For him, he's always been a little soft for her--right from those early days in Ul'dah when she was a strange, sarcastic, impatient person out of her element and clearly keeping a multitude of secrets, but with a genuine kindness beneath it all.

19. Are they okay with public displays of affection? Do they like them?

Aur's not a fan of them. She hates the feeling of her emotional intimacy being perceived, especially by the larger public. If she's in a private place with trusted friends, then she's far more open--she and Thancred have a lot of small touches and gestures, a touch on the shoulder or the arm, slipping their hand into the other's, a kiss on the forehead. But if they're around people she doesn't know, all of that goes away.

29. What compromises are they making in their relationship?

There are a number of things they butt heads on or don't agree with. Sometimes these are small things (whose space is whose - Aur needs her space, maybe too much space, is it really necessary for her to have a whole room devoted to weapons???); sometimes these are larger disagreements (how best to support and help Ryne, they don't always agree on this parenting situation they've ended up in since neither of them know what they're doing they're idiots (affectionate) help them Urianger; religion is also a bit of a hot topic for them, but it's complicated by Endwalker's events and I don't think either of them are eager to bring it up and they're leaving it alone).

But they always try to make room for the other and respect each other's opinions, even when they disagree. This probably manifests most clearly in how independent they are. They both go off and do their own things, sometimes they don't see each other in person for months (even after they're married). But when push comes to shove they always have each other's backs. They support each other unconditionally.

#ffxiv #aurcred #aureia malathar #talktag #shadowbringers spoilers #oc tag

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meowww-ffxiv · 17 days

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Mordred disliked mentioning it, so no one mentioned it, but his health had never been good.

Asthma was common enough, even among those who risked their lives for gold like adventurers. For the first few years that Theodore knew Mordred, it wasn't even that bad. His triggers were specific -- cold fronts, and noxious gasses. So long as they avoided those things, or Mordred had ample warning and could cast his bubble-head filter spell, he was fine. He was careful with physical exertion and always carried medicine on him. His health was therefore tacitly declared to be his own problem and no one else's.

But then there had been the Bloody Banquet. The Dragonsong War. Ala Mhigo. Doma. Battlefields crawling with the dying and the screams of warmachina. Stress and crying made Mordred's lungs seize. Y'shtola, her senses heightened since her Lifestream strip, pressed her hands on his back and said quietly, "There is scarring in your lungs."

"From the fire," Mordred rasped. He already knew.

The fire?

"Calamity. When everything burned."

There are scars elsewhere too, Theodore thought. Under Mordred's skin, on the tapestry of his memories. But these were the ones made self-evident when one traveled with him for years and watched him unable to stomach or even smell roasted meat, watched him wash his hands until they were bleeding-raw. Mordred liked fish partly because it was his preference, partly because it smelled nothing like red meat or people or the horrific, metallic bitterness of Garlean machines' combusted fuel.

Mordred didn't say this to anyone either. He most certainly didn't say this to Theodore. It was just that, sometimes his soul wept and Theodore managed to catch the notes with his Echo.

The breaking Light gouged something else out of him; his body reacted to large fluctuations of aether far worse and far more dramatically now, as though his very flesh and bones remembered the searing invasion of that deluge of Primordial Light. Mordred inevitably went down with a high fever after every occasion where he needed to expend a large amount of aether. He had the reserves -- the question wasn't about his reserves. But rather how his body reacted whenever he set about using them.

The backlash also existed when Mordred transposed the flow of his mana to quicken its recovery, or from the Umbral phase to the Astral phase.

He told the Scions all this very calmly. And, for Theodore's and Estinien's benefit, who were not learned scholars, he added, "I can no longer use black magic without consequences." A sigh. "I'm not going to be as strong as I was before."

The room was silent. Not because they were especially worried about Mordred losing out on perhaps one-tenths of his sheer power, but rather because they had known him long enough to realize that for him to tell them about what amounted to a disability for him was significant. This person, who held his shattered innards together after battling Shinryu above the Ala Mhigan Quarters, and went untreated for hours just so he could reassure his comrades and affirm their victory, before finally collapsing.

Eventually, Alisaie said, "Thank goodness we are all here, then."

"Maybe we can even get a shot in edgewise, if the Warrior of Light can be compelled to hold back a tad like this," Thancred added, tone light.

Mordred stared at them.

Then he heaved a long, long, relieved sigh.

After, when it was just him and G'raha, he went to Mordred's side and sat with him, and said, "It feels good, does it not? To look around yourself and realize that you are among good friends."

"They already are," Mordred replied. "But I just thought... I think too little of them. I was worried that they'd feel nervous to hear that I'm wearing down. Like some weathered old pillar. But we've been holding this sky up together for years. It was me who patronized them."

G'raha chuckled dryly. He glanced out the window, his red eyes faraway. "Chessamine's mother thought the same of me when I first fell sick, in the Crystarium's earlier years."

Mordred tilted his head, thinking for a moment. "I can still use black magic, but--" he began.

"No," G'raha cut him off firmly.

"Fine. But arcanima is alright. The built-in arrays actually make it much easier to regulate the aether I'm expending." Mordred fiddled with his tail, trying to suppress the sulk from being scolded. "And white magic is, ironically, the best for me. Amdapori practices fortify the caster as they use their spells."

"That is all well and good," G'raha agreed, "but, Mordred."

"Yes?"

"So long as you understand that there is nothing you must do where we cannot help, that's the most important thing."

G'raha looked at him, expression placid and firm, leaving no room for doubt. There was none of the usual blushing nor skittering, not even the gentleness he always afforded Mordred, no matter the topic at hand.

Mordred thought of the young man who teased him in that arduous, cross-country fetch quest. He thought of the pouting and arguing about being allowed to go on the Crystal Tower's expedition, how Rammbroes had brutally shot G'raha Tia down, saying he was no fighter. How G'raha had sulked yet had agreed to in the end -- he had known his limits.

He thought about power bought with blood prices. Power, and agency, and the ability to change one's fate. The Crystal Exarch's sparkling neurosis. The Crystarium and all it had cost to raise that place up from the stasis of despair, brick by brick.

"Alright," Mordred said. "I will be counting on you."

G'raha smiled, with such warmth it brightened his heart.

#mon writing

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semi-imaginary-place · 11 months

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ffxiv the loches to the end of 4.0

exploring the loches and fates its clear that ala mhigo has a very strong history of monarchy, stronger than what is shown for doma. a parallel is that both doma and ala mhigo are nationalistic and seek independence from garlemand, and they are both nations that are historically monarchies. doma rallies around the idea of a king, the king as a representation of a nation, and after a period without a monarch seeks to reinstate the monarchy. ala mhigo is also kingless but seems to be moving away from the idea of a king.

damn this man has been hiding out in the salt monastery, get him some food and water.

thanks for the convenient plot device to beat fordola urianger. i haven't seen you all expansion. speaking of people who haven't shown up what are the acsians up to didn't see them much in 3.0 either. ffxiv has had a long standing problem of juggling multiple plots the main ones set up in arr are the ascians light vs dark and the garleans global polimilitary conflict.

the salt lake is giant, it takes half the horizontal surface area of the map and there's an entire city down here

there's no way the player character knows how to operate garlean technology. this is sora at the computer.

the ala mhigan quarter has so many alleys. this map is useless. why does gyr abania have the special ishgardian black chocobos?

and now after 9 levels omega is back. uriange using us in his double blind experiments.

I think the writers forgot that limsa lomisa is a lalafellin name because they seem to be under the impression that its a seawolf city.

oooh they added yelling intot he background noises. nice touch

hien really did fly across a continent. ah on yolback. i was wondering why they didn't run into the same problems we faced going to doma in that moving an army across imperial controlled waters is going to spark a war. but if he only brought a few people that makes more sense. although i dont see any of the mol or xaela. when did yugiri get a yol. the doman forces might have been more effective drawing garleans forces to doma and away from ala mhigo. that door, it would have been so much easier just to unlock it but that would also have been much harder and riskier.

the story is obviously not going that way its just not how its written but raubahn could have been the new ala mhigo leader. conrad says that he wanted someone who has lived outside of garlean occupation and was more widely traveled than himself and raubhn fits the bill. politically speaking lyse is the family of two famous revolutionaries but raubahn is even more famous as the bull of ala mhigo and general of the immortal flames. he also has the proven battle and leadership record that lyse lacks. additionally here in the battle for ala mhigo he's made pipin lead general and is fighting not as a general but just as a soldier so he is willing to give up command and the flames would be fine without him. but on a personal level i see why it makes sense in character for him not to. now that illberd is dead his strongest ties are in ul'dah with nanamo and pipin. most importantly is that 4.0 isn't raubahn's story, its lyse's. She's the main character here and most things are written in service of her character arc instead of what would actually make sense.

I've said it earlier but I do really like how 4.0 centers the stories of women. I didn't even realized how bereft heavenward was of lead female characters until I got to 4.0 and it was the lyse, yugiri, and alisae show. basically until hien gets introduced on the azim steppe, lyse, yugiri, and alisae are the ones driving the plot they're the main characters and I do like that.

duty support for ala mhigo is interesting. you got tank arenvald, dps raubahn and lyse, and healer alphinaud so you cannot have everyone at once. of the 4 alphinaud is the least plot relavent but i refuse to play healer. not after it took me 5 attempts to clear battem's mettle. I may run this a couple times to see what dialogue I get.

my ilevel is so low i shoule not have run this as tank. wow the the dungeon end scene's really evolved used to be final fantasy victory music and then the pc jump excitedly and now its just a camera pan

jp zenos voice actor is doing a job. zenos usually sound soooo bored and now he's excited and deranged. did zenos just compare the wol to the primal he's trapped in a cage, illberd's primal.

localizations this time round have been pretty good. but i noticed this line is a bit different, i wasn't listening too closely but it was something like "I've never had so much fun".

zenos seems lonely. desperate for a connection and not accustomed to having one. also lol got him monologue-ing. he offers the hand of friend and wants to be rejected what a messed up little man. zenos has never had a friend. reminds me of those chronically online people with no friends but who are desperately lonely and they're doing these mental gymnastics and justifications for nothing. damn zenos is projecting HARD onto the player character. like pc is just standing there while zenos rants about how they must be the same.

wait wait did zenos just call the wol yuuitsu tomo like his one and only friend or the only friend for him. bruh you've never even had a full conversation with this person. ok wow a lot of lines are different I'm going to have to go look up the japanese version later.

zenos fused with a primal. how does that even work? probably more aether bs.

wow the game forces a sunset for this part of the game

seriously, last duty of 4.0 and not a single ascian this entire patch. devs really did give up on explaining why every boss fight is now on a platform in the void

see he's showing blood that's how you know he's scripted to die. suicide? edgy.

the price of freedom

THE FUCKING EYES ARE STILL THERE. and now the ascians show up after not seeing them since 3.x. what has y'shtola been doing since she was injured? uuuuuuugggg zenos said he used omega's power to trap shinryuu... so where's omega? the cidnero divorce saga continues! they were business associates

empires, occupation, communities diaspora

lyse is the main character. foil is hien. both monarchies kingship symbol of what doma lost.

zenos is under utilized his most interesting part is his final scene. but he also had to kill himself there because now that he has reached the meaning of his existence there was nothing left but the void again. miserable pathetic loser. having an existential crisis faced with the reality that his life his empty he continues to seek the only thing that can make him feel anything, the innate fear of death when he is on the brink of it.

#ffxiv #ffxiv 4.0

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