#and honestly normalizing scars and 'ugliness' as something to embrace in the process is nothing but good too

[ghostlysoupcan]

the way phallo and top surgery is criticized just makes me want it more tbh. like im mutilating myself? im destroying bits of my body? thats almost more gender affirming than the parts themselves. i want somebody to look on at me with disgust. they cant find anything to claim ownership of in a body they find grotesque, and thats beautiful to me, and it tells me right away that they matter less than dog shit.

the complete and utter freedom of having a body that somebody doesnt claim ownership of based on the fact they find it unappealing. im done with the shame or the guilt of being unattractive or lamenting it. i want to celebrate it and romantice it. the way society treats people who dont look a certain way is sad and instead of a world where everyone is 'hot', i want a world where people are deeply attracted to their own bodies and dont need to rely on outsider opinion to feel hot or beautiful or wanted.

maybe its just an aro thing but this body is mine and god is it euphoric to transform into something thats beautiful and cherished to you that you get to enjoy all to yourself. its like getting a hair cut that your parents hate times a million. oh, i have such pretty breasts? wouldnt it be such a shame if they were to come off and leave me so profoundly disgusting and ugly to you. i dont listen to compliments from people who call other peoples euphoria about their own bodies unnatural or wrong.

#trans bodies are and can be hot but whats really special is when youre infatuated with how you look and reclaim it for yourself. #you are not there to cater to other peoples definition of hot and this is something that makes people agonize so much for no reason. #of course if you find you like being hot to people thats completely okay and im glad you feel that way #also this aint to say trans bodies are grotesque either im just saying if they wanna call me ugly or mutilated then do it. #because good god do i want to wake up and see my mutilated chest and mutilated body and be overwhelmed with how beautiful they look #as a symbol of self autonomy and self-making in a society where you truly own nothing. #and honestly normalizing scars and 'ugliness' as something to embrace in the process is nothing but good too #enough 'youre not ugly youre actually hot to me!' more body positivity thats not about what you are or not to strangers. #ive been through enough feeling like my body is owned by others to want to have my level of hot determined by them. #i havent seen near enough body positivity that intersects with human autonomy and its a damn shame.

[endangered-liaison]

Safety First

"Test one."

Wyda tries not to think about the fact that doing a series of experiments on her aether is what got her into this mess to begin with.

She's being smarter about it, this time.

She's in the Bellworks testing room, with all the reinforcements that would imply. The room's been able to deal with aetherically-charged bullets and, at one point, a portable cannon that Wyda still isn't sure how anyone authorised to test in a company that, as a rule, does not produce weaponry.

She finishes winding the hand-wraps around her fingertips and flexes them experimentally. Okay. Not exactly armoured, but she doesn’t want her hands covered to affect the results of her tests. This, and the bracers on her wrists, is the compromise.

"Shirina - you ready?"

Shirina barely nods from behind the reinforced glass viewing area, her eyes intently focused on the targeting dummy across the room, pencil at the ready. "On your mark."

Okay.

Here we go.

"Hyrt, you ready?"

You can do this. It's just like any other spellcast.

That doesn't exactly reassure her.

Wyda lifts the helmet she'd worn into combat during the Gyr Abanian campaign. It was never the most elegant thing in the world, but...it saw her through a lot. Her right index finger traces over the scar a bullet left across one side of the helmet's surface, an ugly reminder beneath Em's ring.

She pulls the helmet on, fitting it snugly over her eyes and trying to breathe steadily.

Safety equipment suits you. It really accentuates your lips.

Wyda rolls her eye. "Hyrt."

Right. Shutting up now.

She steps forwards, raising her thaumaturge's staff. She doesn't know if it's the right tool for the job, honestly, but...it feels sensible to start by trying to channel through a focus.

She focuses on channelling her aether through the focus at the tip of the staff, focusing on casting...she isn't sure what. For all of Hyrt's advice about releasing this power within her, she's freely admitted to not having a clue how that power will actually manifest.

That's something we'll have to find out together, she'd said. Well...now is the time for finding out, Wyda supposes.

Screw it. She'll try to cast Thunder, and see what happens. Just a low-power version - a Thaumaturge's staple, nothing like the Mhachi spells she'd been pushing herself to cast. Nothing dangerous to herself.

She focuses, points the staff forwards...and a bolt sparks across the chamber, striking the dummy and sparking over its metalwork.

She casts again.

Then a third time, until she can start to feel the strain on her aether. There it is. Low aetheric reserves, just like always. She lowers her staff, sighing.

"Huh. That was...remarkably normal."

Well, good to see you can still use your aether to cast normal spells. I'd wondered about that, admittedly.

She pulls a bottle of ether from her leather jacket's pocket, uncorking it and taking a swig as she glances towards Shirina.

"It isss good to sssee you can ssstill ussse your aether."

Wyda pauses, staring at Shirina and then sending a silent question towards Hyrt.

Hey, it was a worry. If she was worried about it too it just shows how good she is at her job. Or how smart I am. Or both.

"Aye, I suppose." Wyda nods as Shirina's focus shifts back to the notes she's taking. "Oh, can you make a note for us to test healing magicks at some point? Those tend to rely on neutral or light-aspected aether." She really, really hopes this hasn't impacted her healing abilities. That was the only thing she was ever any good at when it comes to spellcasting.

"Consssider it noted." Shirina doesn't even look up from her writing, all professionalism. Wyda nods to herself before corking the bottle and slipping it back into her pocket.

"Test two, then?"

Shirina nods, and she feels a vague affirmation in her mind from Hyrt.

Wyda steps forwards. One step, two. She swings her staff behind her, raising her left hand and waiting to feel the telltale thrumming of her aether before she casts a Ruin spell. She has the geometry on paper, stuffed up her left sleeve. Obviously.

She and Brave still haven't figured out when to get those tattoos.

Maybe she should redesign hers - something less reckless than her old shield geometry.

The Ruin blasts from her fingertips so unexpectedly she barely notices it until it slams into the target dummy.

She frowns, focusing and releasing another Ruin. It...looks a little different, she thinks? Ruin is meant to be unaspected, so surely it should reflect any changes in her aether. Surely she should be able to see - to understand.

Another cast. Another. Another.

Wyda.

There's nothing there. It's the same as it ever was. Another. There has to be something. Another. She can't just be the same, Hyrt said-- she trusts Hyrt, damn it, she can't be wrong about this!

Wyda, stop!

She stops, gasping for breath.

"Missss Hyrtwyda, isss everything alright?"

Wyda raises a finger, catching her breath. She just needs a second.

This isn't doing anything but exhausting you. Hyrt offers, softly. And at this point, I think it's safe to say that you can cast normal spells the same as you ever could. No changes, no ill effects, no spikes of dark destruction.

"What do you suggest, then?" She growls, ignoring the confused (and slightly alarmed) look Shirina sends her way.

We need to try something different. But I'm not sure what. I know only as much as you could, and that's...not much, right now.

Wyda waits, patiently. She's heard her own thought processes often enough to recognise the same in Hyrt's voice right now.

The darkness that's awakened within you. It's...both literal and metaphorical. Hyrt begins, cautiously. Literal darkness, polarized aether - so an attempt to cast a spell polarized to darkness, like the inverse of a healing spell, might have some effect. But also, metaphorical darkness. Your thoughts and desires and wants. I know you've been noticing them.

Wyda closes her eye, grits her teeth. She doesn't need to talk about that right now. Not with Hyrt. Not with anyone. She's fine. Everything's fine.

Embracing them, thinking about them...that might be enough to unleash the metaphorical darkness, and make it manifest literally. Might be enough to purge your body of that which has been building in your veins. She falls silent for a few seconds, considering her next words. Acting upon them might do the same. I don't know.

And just for a second, Wyda's traitorous mind considers it.

A shudder runs down her spine, and she shakes the thought off.

"You know that's a stupid thing to suggest."

I know. But lying to you about the possibilities wouldn't help us. I don't want to lie to you, and so I have to acknowledge the possibility.

Wyda takes a slow breath. "...I appreciate it."

"Missss Hyrtwyda?"

Wyda finally looks over at Shirina again, who looks like she's weighing up the pros and cons between calling for backup or politely slapping Wyda in the face to snap her out of this.

...The latter of those doesn't sound too bad, honestly.

"Sorry. I'm okay. Just had a minor disagreement with...myself." She's aware that that doesn't sound particularly fine. "I have one more idea for today, but I think we should probably call it after that."

Shirina's face shifts into even more of an alarmed look. "I think we ssshould probably call it now, Missss Hyrtwyda."

"One idea. I promise." Wyda raises her helmet to give Shirina a pleading, soft look. "I'm sorry that I worried you, but I had to work some things out."

Shirina sighs and crosses her arms. "Fine. But I am including thisss exchange in the report for Chief Horizon."

Wyda nods in agreement and pulls her mask back down. "That's fair. But I promise it will be okay."

Don't make promises you can't keep, Wyda.

She doesn't answer that particular jab. She just takes a step back, gauging the distance to the striking dummy.

"Test three."

She lifts her staff for a moment, then stops. Lowers it, and raises her left hand.

She breathes, slow and steady.

"Literal and metaphorical, aye?"

Aye. Literal and metaphorical.

"Sounds simple enough."

She closes her eye, and focuses within herself.

She feels for...a spark of darkness. For a void. An abyss. For anything.

But she doesn't feel it. There's nothing, but...not in any sense of Voids. There's just nothing there to sense.

But perhaps...

She focuses on what Hyrt had suggested. Literal darkness. Okay. If she inverts a cure spell, the aetherological effects would be...right. Okay. She can do this. It's all aetheric theory, and she is damned good at aetheric theory.

She shifts the casting parameters. Alters the motions of the hand, inverts them, like writing upside-down. She goes to call upon the aether in the air, then hesitates. No. Don't call upon the land, nor on the elementals. Call upon--

there

Wyda gasps and feels her fumbling, probing mind push against the Abyss.

It's there. She can feel it now.

How could she not have felt it before? The darkness inside her. It feels like something that's always been there, something so old she couldn't even notice it. Invisible until she pushed against it and felt the resistance. Vast and powerful and nebulous.

She grits her teeth, opening her eye and trying to tap into the darkness. But it doesn't shift. She turns her fingers, focusing on the target, but nothing happens. How can she possibly hope to vent this power, to purge it from herself? It doesn't respond to her, not like the aether of the land is supposed to when casting a spell.

Not that she's ever been any good at that, either.

She almost laughs against the strain she's feeling. Of course. Of course she'd be bad at this, too! She's a mage whose talents for magic have never come naturally. They've always been fought for tooth and nail, and they've always cost her nails and teeth.

Why would this be any different?

She's worthless. Useless. A worthless healer who might not even be able to heal any more, whose every attempt to improve simply hurts herself and those around--

Something thrums within her.

A sigil appears, dark and angular, around her arm. No. Not a sigil. A geometry. She almost laughs. Of course she'd still end up making geometries with her inner darkness. That sounds so hilariously like her.

But nothing else happens. The geometry remains, the power is there...but she still can't unleash it. It pushes at the edges of her aether, but it doesn't shift that final nock it needs to pour out of her.

As much as I commend the full dive into your own self-loathing as a method of harnessing your powers, might I suggest something else right now?

She grits her teeth. Fine. She'll listen. It's not like she's getting anywhere like this, anyroad.

You are a brilliant young woman, Wyda.

The words are close to her ear, murmured with care and reverence. They make her gasp, and the geometries flicker and twist around her hand.

You have come so far. And yes, you have made mistakes. You have faltered. But we are yet young. You have so much life left in you. So much passion. Hyrt's voice is soft and affectionate - amused, almost. You can do this. So reach out. Reach out, and feel my presence. Feel it as it is.

She feels the abyss inside her.

She feels her inner darkness.

It feels warm.

Shadow explodes out of her hand, shocking Wyda back into the present moment. Back into the here and the now, to the experiments and the bright lighting of the testing area.

Shards of wood and metal rip free from the front of the striking dummy. Rippling, sharp aether, all red and black and purple and darkness, tear it apart like it's paper.

One of the fragments of wood bounces off her helmet.

Wyda stares, wide-eyed.

She looks over at Shirina, who isn't writing anything down any more. She's just staring at the results of the experiment, brow furrowed.

She...she did it?

"I did it!"

Wyda can feel the amusement in Hyrt when she speaks.

Told ya.

#ffxiv #Hyrtwyda Eyhafrynwyn #hyrt #Wyda