#laelia belisar

[endangered-liaison]

Dawn of the Final Day

#ffxiv #Max Sawyer #Victoria Castellus #Laelia Belisar #High and Away #Gloria Gallus

[snowbird-down]

Character Summary: Laelia (jen) Belisar

alias/nicknames: Lee, Jeanne, Snowbird, Valkyrie

gender: female

age: 23

zodiac: ----

abilities  + talents:

A highly skilled if not batshit reckless pilot who can pull off stunts that probably shouldn’t be possible in all manner of machina

A crackshot gunslinger with the kind of draw time that Marty Robbins writes ballads about

Cooks a mean plate of spaghetti

alignment: lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / neutral / evil / true

sins: envy / greed / gluttony / lust / pride / sloth / wrath

virtues: charity / chastity / diligence / humility / justice / kindness / patience

languages: Fluent in Garlean and Common, can speak haltingly conversational Ala Mhigan (but only in the present-tense) and knows all the swear words in Old Elezen.

family: Justus Belisar (father), Tacitus Belisar (older brother), Marco Belisar (younger brother), Verina Belisar (younger sister), Alfonso Belisar (estranged cousin)

friends: While the survivors of III Squad are by technical definition her ‘friends’, the bond that exists between them is probably more familial than anything. Laelia is quite literally inseparable from Victoria Castellus and Maxima Sawyer, and she’d do absolutely anything for either of them. Ride or die? You bet.

More recently she’s gotten close to Arym Ord, who she shares a love of adrenaline (among other things) with. She even would have considered him an ‘honorary’ squad member who they’d ‘adopted’, except he’s being Very Difficult right now.

For some reason fate keeps sending her through hell alongside a girl named Reima Awen, so the two share a mutual understanding of each others’ trauma and do their best to support each other while dreaming of -- and striving for -- better days.

The healer Norhi Morovine helped her settle into Gridanian life back when she first deserted Garlemald and was hiding out in the Shroud, and continues to be her go-to for all manner of Eorzean expertise.

And while she thinks that Ser Basile Bellerose is currently just her friend (with extensive benefits), the reality is that she is much, much closer to him than she realizes.

sexuality: heterosexual / bisexual / pansexual / homosexual / demisexual / asexual / unsure / other

relationship: single / partnered / married / widowed / open relationship / divorced / not ready for dating yet / it’s complicated

libido: sex god / very high / high / average / low / very low / non-existent / who knows

build: slender / average / athletic / muscular / curvy / other

hair: white / blonde (platinum) / brunette / red / black

eyes: brown / blue / gray / green / black / other

skin: pale / fair / olive / light brown / brown / dark / other

height: 6'0"

scars: Surprisingly few for all the stunts she pulls. There’s a puncture wound from an arrow on the back of her left calf; by the way it healed it looks like it got infected at one point. There’s a hand-sized patch of burnt skin over her ribs on her righthand side. And there’s a more recent bullet wound in her left shoulder.

dogs or cats || birds or bugs || snakes or spiders || coffee or tea || ice cream or cake || fruits or vegetables || sandwich or soup || magic or melee || sword shield dagger or bow gun|| summer or winter || spring or autumn || past or future present

A few songs that remind you of them:

Kenny Loggins - Danger Zone ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Green Day - Holiday ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Some Nights - Fun

D’Angelo - Unshaken

The Ecstasy of Gold -- Ennio Morricone

Coyote Kisses - Six Shooter

Primo the Alien - Heart on the Run

Hunter as a Horse - The Train :)

Tagged by: @rhotanored Thank you this was due for an updatew fhweuidkfjhewrkjdghkjer

Tagging: @high-and-away @autochthonousone @endangered-liaison @norhimorovine​ @daughter-of-fire-and-dreams​ idk who’s done this forgive me!

#character memes #tag memes #laelia belisar

[rhotanored]

Character Summary: Arym pyr Ord

alias/nicknames: Art, Rabbit, Grandpa

gender: more or less male

age: looks around 30

zodiac: ----

abilities  + talents:

a recklessly talented driver with a penchant for high speeds and stunts that definitely should have gotten him killed by now

a capable engineer focused in communication devices

machina technician/mechanic focused in vehicles (and bullshitting his way through juryrigging to Make Things Work(tm))

capable sniper, decent melee combatant (gunblades, H2H)

alignment: lawful / neutral / chaotic / good / neutral / evil / true

sins: envy / greed / gluttony / lust / pride / sloth / wrath

virtues: charity / chastity / diligence / humility / justice / kindness / patience

languages: Fluent in common and Garlean, a hodgepodge of words, phrases and basic understanding of languages out of Landis, Dalmasca and Bozja

family: none by blood that he can presently remember

friends: Arym is difficult to befriend through all the jagged edges of his personality, but beneath that is a man desperate for camaraderie and understanding, both of which he accidentally stumbled into with Sergius. They share a penchant for dry, black humor and past experiences that leave them both with near-uncomfortable common ground. Arym is flighty and skittish, but Sergius has managed to be an anchor he can't (and doesn't want to) cast off. While he'd like to think he's taken III Squad (comprised of Max Sawyer, Victoria Castellus and Laelia Belisar) under his wing, it's more like the other way around. They gave him a reason to keep fighting, but now that he's pursuing a more reckless path, he's putting distance between them.

sexuality: heterosexual / bisexual / pansexual / homosexual / demisexual / asexual / unsure / other

relationship: single / partnered / married / widowed / open relationship / divorced / not ready for dating yet / it’s complicated

libido: sex god / very high / high / average / low / very low / non-existent / who knows

build: slender / average / athletic / muscular / curvy / other (partial machina)

hair: white / blonde / brunette / red / black

eyes: brown / blue / gray / green / black / other (orange LEDs baybee)

skin: pale / fair / olive / light brown / brown / dark / other (gray)

height: 6'1"

scars: so many. a lot of burn scars leftover from the accident, surgical scars from where he's had various organs replaced and/or augmented, gunshot wounds, puncture wounds, lacerations, you name it he's nearly died from it

dogs or cats || birds or bugs || snakes or spiders || coffee or tea || ice cream or cake || fruits or vegetables || sandwich or soup || magic or melee || sword shield dagger or bow gun|| summer or winter || spring or autumn || past or future present

A few songs that remind you of them:

Sintesis - Otrebor

The Mission - The Great Wight Dread, Computerbandit

Drive It Like You Stole It - The Glitch Mob

The Driver - Ollie Wride

Get no pleasure from the pressure, all that you feed To walk like every modern man I see you, filling up your lungs like ammunition to a gun You take a swing but you can't take me down

Keep Running - Geographer

first they tell you to learn then tell you you’re wrong then they tell you to live a lie if you wanna live at all they take away your reason then they take you for a fool they say there’s no point leaving now even if you could I know that you’ll carry I know that you’ll carry me home baby it’s scary but I don’t think that’s where we belong

Vignette - Koethe

Sometimes I lie awake and think of what I’ve done Am I asleep I can’t believe that I’m the only one Sometimes I lie awake and think of what I’ve said Am I asleep I can’t believe that its all in my head Ive begun to think I’m every thing but starting to forget I cant recall my footing it’s easier to pretend Somewhere in the vignette

This Ain't No Hymn - Saint Saviour

So let me be, so let me be, so let me be So let me be I'll follow someone that I can see I'll worship someone that I can be

'Cause it depends on you and you alone Whether you do, whether you don't Don't believe in more than flesh and bone Grab on and hold, grab on and hold

Tagged by: @sergiusreports

Tagging:​ @snowbird-down, @norhimorovine, @autochthonousone, @endangered-liaison, @high-and-away (I dunno who's been tagged already aAAAAA)

#arym pyr ord #lmao arym isn't even on this blog yet #but i haven't finished his #so HERE WE GO

[tea-and-conspiracy]

FFXIVWrite 2022 Master Post

Getting a head start on the housekeeping this year because I know how I am. :P

Current Submissions:

Prompt 1: Cross (Laelia)

Prompt 2: Bolt (Eliane)

Prompt 3: Temper (Laelia)

Prompt 5: Cutting Corners (Azem)

Prompt 6: Onerous (Eliane)

Prompt 7: Pawn (Laelia)

Prompt 8: Tepid (Olivie)

Prompt 9: Yawn (Persephone)

Prompt 10: Channel (Eliane/Olivie/Red)

Prompt 12: Miss the Boat (Laelia)

Prompt 13: Confluence (Inquisitor Renaud)

Prompt 14: Attrition (House Montcharlet)

Prompt 15: Row (Laelia)

Prompt 16: Deiform (Laelia)

Prompt 17: Novel (Eliane)

Prompt 19: Turn a Blind Eye (The Praetorian)

Prompt 20: Anon (Anon)

Prompt 21: Solution (Laelia)

Prompt 22: Veracity (Eliane)

Prompt 23: Pitch (Eliane - Darklight)

Prompt 24: Vicissitudes (Azem)

Prompt 26: Break a Leg (Belisar siblings)

Prompt 27: Hail (Belisar family)

Prompt 28: Vainglory (Eliane)

#ffxivwrite2022 #my writing #housekeeping

[to-mask-the-quiet]

Junelezen Day 15: Love

"Her soul is so bright and strong; she is possessed of an indomitable spirit for justice. I shudder to consider the visceral darkness of mine own had her light not come to shine upon it."

#junelezen #elezen #ffxiv #duskwight #Laelia Belisar #garlean

[jancisstuff]

Welcoming the Dawn Event

"Dalmasca lives on."

June 2020

#Sage Adhi #Killian Waltz #Lufrieda Nollani #Staelufre Lysmerl #sui eclair #Farid Griffinrider #jancis milburga #Aidan Hawke #cheche dotharl #lux lunseer #Laelia Belisar #njorthrbiartr hjallr #Castor Arendt #Synnove Northwyght #Lorelei Blanchard #Momori Mori #Caelrin Morra #Rafaela Rizzo #Vio Terrell #Percy Klossowski #Elektra Arentis #Lucas Nevin #Margot Lawshe #FFXIVHeartless

[norhimorovine]

Magical Land Lords

(Continued from here for @tea-and-conspiracy​)

Norhi muses on the first question, sipping her tea and listening as Laelia talks. She then smiles. "It's very nice to meet you, Laelia. As for the ship, well..."

She sighs slowly. "I'm not entirely sure myself. I mean... I might know a cave not far from your spot that it could fit into. The entrance could get draped in vines. I'd have to go measure the cave to compare. I don't know how precise a landing those things can do, since that's tech I never got a chance to fiddle with, during my adventuring days. Honestly, looks newer than what I saw on the field. Outside of that, my next thought would be to try to grow a hedge over it. I could ask around with a few trusted friends, if you're okay with that. I'll likely be telling them that you're here in peace, at least. Just in case they stumble your way."

She then shifts, mentally setting that aside. She takes another slow sip, before answering the next question. "As for the erm... elementals as eikons, let me see if I can explain this in the way that I understand it. Primals, or eikons as their called by the Empire, are born of prayer and magic, as you've said. And to my understanding, their existence, when present, drains the land of aether. Which is what makes them bad. But elementals, so far as I know, were not born of prayer. Magic maybe. But I've found no records, personal accounts, or any evidence of elementals being born, or brought into existence, much less how it actually happens. What we do know is, they do not drain the land of aether. If anything, they're tied very strongly to the life stream, and the cycle of aetheric flow that makes up life's natural rhythms. By all I can tell, they're just aetheric beings, of indeterminate lifespan and magical capacity. The forest is their home. They were here first. And so they set the rules for the forest."

She then gets a mischievous grin again, winking once at Laelia. "I do advise you to not repeat that to any padjals you meet. Or anyone who's loyal to the conjurers guild, seedseers, wood wailers, other Gridanian authority, et cetera. They still try to insist that their pact was the first, despite the duskwight peoples living her long before Gridania was founded. I mostly just humor it, nod, and change the topic. Safer, really."

She then smiles more calmly, thinking of the gardening once more. She lifts her mug in a faint toast. "Well, if you're finding healing among the plants you're nurturing, then I'd wager that's why the elementals aren't worried about you. Or... well.. so far as I'm capable of telling."

She quickly cuts off that stream of chatter and sips her tea.

#laelia jen belisar #rp thread #norhi morovine

[high-and-away]

FFXIVWrite Prompt #14: Part

[ @snowbird-down​, I sincerely apologize for my flagrant misappropriation of Lee.] Several bells before Laelia Belisar stands in the cargo bay of the Delphinus: "I'm sorry," says Victoria, not entirely certain she's heard correctly. "You want me to what?" "Dogsit," answers Laelia cheerily, sticking an unlit cigarette between her lips.

"Why? And more importantly, why me?" Laelia shrugs. "Because if I'm flying into certain death, I don't want a stranger looking after him. Also because you're, like, the third most responsible person I know." A particularly emphatic snorfle comes from the floor; Brutus is waddling in orbit around her ankles, investigating the living room by pressing his flattened face against the floor. As Victoria glances down, he discovers a particularly large pastry crumb and eagerly devours it. There are many, many more. Thanks for not eating over the table like a civilized spoken, Wyda. You really shouldn't have. "I mean...thanks? I think?" Who the hells are the other two? Laelia Belisar treats responsibility as though touching it would make her break out in hives, and her friends and acquaintances all seem to have the same fascinating allergy. "But honestly, I'm really not the best person to look after a dog." "You'll be fiiiine," drawls Laelia, waving her free hand in lazy dismissal. "It's only for a week. All you've gotta do is feed him, walk him, and make sure he doesn't take a dump on anybody's fancy landscaping." She dips her hand into her jacket pocket, rummages briefly, and produces a lighter that immediately gravitates towards her face as iron to a lodestone. Victoria winces. "Please don't smoke in the house." Like a child caught plundering the cookie jar, Laelia guiltily lowers her hand, and the lighter returns from whence it came. "Sorry. Wouldn't wanna stink up your nice carpets." Undaunted by this momentary setback, she shifts gears right back from woe to wheedling. "C'mon, Vicky, please? Just look at him, he loves you!" As prompted, Victoria looks down; Brutus has inched himself up against her feet like a rotund footwarmer, mouth open and tongue dangling. In his delight at being noticed, his entire rear end starts wiggling, and he offers her an eager whine. Victoria caves and reaches down to pet his blocky head. As thanks, Brutus tilts his face up and lovingly slathers her hand in saliva. Dammit. She can't resist. She's not strong enough. Resigned, she straightens back up. "Fine. But you really owe me." Laelia grins, cigarette nearly tumbling from her lips. "You," she says in exaggerated reverence, "are a saint among women. Or whatever the Haloney baloney types call it. You get it." She offers the end of Brutus's leash to Victoria in manner somewhat overly grand for the circumstances. Brutus himself contributes an excited, slightly phlegmy baff! to the conversation. "Okay, so, he'll freak out if you don't let him sleep somewhere near your bed, make sure he doesn't lift his leg on the mailbox, and if he wants a snack between meals, just toss him some pork rinds." "I am not giving your dog pork rinds!" exclaims Victoria, appalled, but Laelia is already sauntering out the door. "Bacon works too. Toodles!" And with a raised arm and loose-wristed wave, she's fled the scene of the crime. For a moment, Victoria just stares resignedly at the closed door as Brutus snuffles happily at her pants cuffs. Then with a sigh, she accepts her fate, and as she bends down to unclip Brutus's leash she starts to ponder the question of how to tell Wyda they've suddenly opened a kennel.

#FFXIVWrite #FFXIVWrite2020 #my writing

[endangered-liaison]

The Knight Before Starlight

The kiseru twists this way and that between Max’s fingers. She’d seen it in the markets, and Starlight was coming up, so…she’d bought it. It was only once she made back to the apartment she and Gloria were sharing that she realised the person she’d bought it for was near-impossible to contact.

How do you find a wandering cowgirl? Especially one who left to find herself in the first place? That’s too much finding for her tastes, and she sucks at it. Give her prey to track and she’ll follow them across half the world. Give her a friend to follow and…well. There’s a reason she came to Othard. Sometimes you need to go somewhere where you won’t be followed. Sometimes people follow anyroad. Sometimes you need help.

But Laelia doesn’t need help. She needs space. Room to think. Max, of all people, can understand that. She never expected to understand it, but she does.

“That’s quite a fine pipe!” a voice pipes (hah) up from right in front of her, and Max jumps like a startled opossum. She’s either getting too rusty or too relaxed because somehow Ser Basile Bellerose, The Least Sneaky Man In Any Given Room, has managed to surprise her. He stands before her in the theatre, hands on his spandex-clad hips and cowboy hat perched daintily on a head slightly too large to it. “But I was under the impression you couldn’t smoke?”

Max opens her mouth to respond, but evidently the man’s thought processes are still going strong as his mouth falls open in some realisation and he continues.

“Have you found some sort of tobacco or moko which doesn’t harm your lungs?” he asks. Then: “Magic and botany are both equally impressive in my books, and either one could offer you the experience of finally being able to smoke as your image suggests you should!!”

He’s right about her image. Every ilm of her screams that she’s some sort of troublemaking layabout smoking cigarettes and threatening to put them out on the nearest intimidatable person. But that’s never been her fate. She speaks up before he has a chance to take his enthusiastic thought processes even further in something that feels vaguely like trying to derail the phantom train. “Nah. I saw it in the markets - got it for Lee.”

That causes the light behind his eyes to do a strange series of things. It dims, brightens, dims again, then brightens once more to an almost zealous enthusiasm. “Laelia! Of course, I’m sure she’d love to receive such a thoughtful gift, and to know she’s in your thoughts! I’m sure she’d also like that smokeless tobacco as well!” Evidently, after being derailed, the train somehow managed to find a second set of tracks, mount on to them, then perform some complicated technique of multi-track drifting. 

Max feels out of her depth, and she was a semi-professional sapper. The man’s enthusiasm is truly dizzying, in that after speaking to him Max isn’t sure what way is up and kind of feels like hurling. In the nicest possible way. “Yeah. Figured she’d like it, but…you have any idea how to get somethin’ to her? Girl makes off-grid look like a tourist trap.” If anyone knows, it’s going to be the man wearing her hat.

He crosses his arms over his barrel chest, pacing this way and that while looking deep in thought. Ten seconds pass. Fifteen. Twenty five.

“Not a clue! Shall we go?”

What. “Huh?”

Basile beams, sparkling teeth and wit. “We know she’s in Ilsabard. We know she has a large dog with her, and we know exactly the sort of heroics that she would get up to! If you have a starlight gift for her then by Halone, I think we should deliver it!”

Max blinks. 

This man truly is insane.

“...Alright.”

-

Two weeks later, the two find themselves once more wearing their winter clothes and once more in the cold of Ilsabard. Max’s teeth chatter. She’d forgotten how much the cold sucked.

Basile has not so much ‘swapped out’ his cowboy hat as he has ‘perched a starlight hat on top of it’. It seems to be holding on through the Garlean winter winds by force-of-will, force-of-personality, or him tugging it over the hat like pulling on a tight pair of socks. It’s genuinely impressive watching the little white bobble blow in the wind from his position on the sidecar of Max’s motorbike.

They’ve been searching for a week. Three towns and a survivor settlement down and all they have to go on is a vague rumour about an oversized dog (which turned out to be a bear), talk of someone riding a horse through the wastes and helping everyone she came across (which turned out to be a strange miqo’te with what looked like an even stranger unicorn), and some rabble-rousing nonsense about the XXVIIth Legion returning to bring them to a new glorious age and to crush the Eorzeans once more. Garlemald doesn’t even have a twenty-seventh legion.

“This was dumb,” Max says, and gets a mouth full of snow to thank for it. 

They’ve just stopped for the evening in some old, abandoned town, and she doesn’t know how much longer they can keep this search going. There’s a whole continent Laelia could be in, and that’s assuming she’s even still in Ilsabard.

No. She’d have sent a message if she’d left. She would’ve.

“Perhaps so! But in my experience, the difference between dumb things and brilliant things is simply a matter of perseverance!” Somehow, Basile’s spirit remains utterly undaunted as he dismounts from the sidecar, unfolding his limbs from it and beginning his routine of stretching that he’s done every day since they started riding together. “We shall find her, whether by force of will or Starlight Miracle.”

Max lifts their camping equipment from the back of the motorbike, giving Basile a Look. She’s been giving him more and more Looks recently, but somehow he never seems to notice them.

One more week. One more week, then they’ll turn back.

-

They don’t have a week.

Max awakes the next morning to the sound of gunfire in the warehouse they’d camped out in. By the time she rolls out of her tent, pistol in one hand and knife in the other, it’s risen to a cacophony of clashing blades and cannonfire.

She’s greeted by the sight of Basile fighting a half-dozen Warmachina. Quite where they’d come from, Max has no idea. Did they pass by an obscura last night? Are they here to give her a speeding ticket? She doesn’t know, and she isn’t much in the mood for asking as she raises her pistol and blasts one of the bladed, skittering ones apart.

Basile throws her a thumbs up and a cheerful “My thanks!” before swinging his gunblade once more, carving a wheeled nightmare like a starlight turkey.

Debris litters the warehouse, and it’s clear he’s already dealt with the worst of them. But it’s equally clear that he’s getting tired, and Max fires off four rounds at the biggest baddest of them all - a Colossus - before joining the fray with her blade.

The Colossus barely seems to care about such petty gunfire, and Max finds herself wishing she’d taken the time to grab her grenades from the tent. But life isn’t for regrets and she’ll have plenty of time to wish she’d made better choices if it cuts her in half. Basile blasts apart the last of the chaff, then turns to face the metal beast. His gunblade roars as it cleaves into the thing’s leg, and Max uses the opportunity to clamber aboard it, ramming her knife into the space between two armour plates and twisting until she hears servos whine. She pulls the knife free, climbing further up its frame before she’s grabbed by the Colossus’s free hand. It squeezes tight enough for her ribs to creak then tosses her halfway across the room. She lands with a dull thud but the ringing in her ears drowns it out.

She watches in dull horror as the Colossus raises its enormous sword, aiming directly at her. It’s ignoring Basile completely, focused on eliminating one target at a time. Starting with the weakest link.

It swings.

Max closes her eyes.

There’s an almighty clash of metal.

When she opens her eyes, Basile is in front of her, his own sword blocking the Colossus’s. It’s heroic. It’s magnificent. It feels like some sort of badass music should be playing in the background.

But he’s struggling. Max doesn’t need to be a mage to see his strength fluctuate. His posture shifts, and his leg bends. He falls to one knee, gritting his teeth. “Max! Run!”

She climbs to her feet, unsteady. She has to do something to help. There has to be something she can do to help.

But before she even has a chance to move, the warehouse echoes once more with the sound of a gunshot. The Colossus’s head snaps back, a bullet piercing clean through its armoured chassis. It slumps, falling to one side. Defeated.

Basile rests his weight on his sword, gasping for breath and clutching his chest. Max stumbles over towards him, dizzy and barely standing.

They both look towards the source of the gunshot.

Laelia Belisar lowers the rifle in her hands, barrel smoking and faintly glowing from whatever round she used. Beside her, Brutus chews on the leg of a piece of magitek like an oversized bone. “Um.” She smiles, and offers an awkward wave. “Hey guys.”

-

Basile is the first to recover. He rushes over to Laelia, regaling her with tales of Starlight Miracles, starlight hat bobbling away and the brightness of his eyes even brighter than normal. He practically seems to be glowing and, after a few moments of shock, Laelia relaxes into it like a familiar campfire. She smiles, and laughs, and offers him a hug.

“It’s good to see you both,” she says, genuinely, and it’s like fresh kindling on the flames of Basile’s enthusiasm.

He insists on hearing everything about Laelia’s time since they last spoke, nodding rapidly to everything she says while he plays with Brutus. He hears of frontiers and homesteads, of talk about expeditions to the New World. Of people lost. Of people found.

“So, there was this one town where some chick calling herself The Razor had set up shop. She said she’d broken out of prison in Thanalan or something, and she was trying to start up some new Garlean movement. With a name like that, I dunno what she was aiming for.” She’s got a starlight hat on by now, cheeks red from the alcohol Max had been carrying in their supplies and the campfire they’d made to fight off the cold.

Even Max has put a hat on, a grin on her face as they sit close to one another.

“So…time for the million gil question.” Laelia interrupts her own storytime to ask it. “Much as I’m happy to see you both, what’s brought you out here? We just finished with one apocalypse, and if you’ve shown up to tell me about another one I swear I’m going to kick you out into the cold and steal the rest of this booze–”

That has Max’s smile fading a little, and she runs her fingers through her hair self-consciously. It’s been getting long, recently. She doesn’t mind it. It used to bother her, but those times are long since passed. “Nah,” she says. “The World’s goin’ fine. I just…missed you.”

There’s a few seconds of silence as Laelia seems to be trying to work out how to reply to that. Max and Basile came out here, a week into the colds of Ilsabard, because Max missed her? “Bull! Shit!” Lee shoves Max’s shoulder, laughing. “Come on. Seriously now, Sawyer. I know you too well, and I know you came out here for a reason. Apocalypse and family are the only things that could drag you this far north without handcuffs.”

The fire crackles. 

The camp is quiet, save for the sound of Brutus attempting to eat Basile’s entire arm.

“Well, you ain’t wrong about that,” Max finally concedes. She reaches into her pack and withdraws a parcel. It’s wrapped in brown paper, with a rough bow tied on it with twine. She hands it over to Laelia. “Family’s the only thing that could drag me this far, kickin’ and screamin’. Happy Starlight, Lee.”

Laelia stares at Max for a long time. She looks at Basile, and Brutus. She looks at the package in her hands.

She leans forwards, and wraps Max in a hug. “Thank you. I…thank you.”

Max buries her face against Lee’s shoulder, gripping the leather of the woman’s jacket as she returns the hug fiercely. “You ain’t even opened it yet.”

“Shut up, Sawyer.”

Across the fire, Basile watches the two with a smile, and wraps his own mighty arm around Brutus to give him a fine hug. “A Starlight Miracle, my friend. Or sheer, stubborn force of will!” 

Brutus boofs approvingly, and the knight rubs his ear.

“But I prefer to trust in a little magic.”

((Featuring @snowbird-down 's Laelia, and @autochthonousone 's Basile!))

#max sawyer #Laelia Belisar #Basile Bellerose #This was my christmas gift for Lee and Basile's players! #And with their kind permission I now share it with you all

[snowbird-down]

The only prescription is more cowgirl.

(credit to @autochthonousone for grabbing these!! <3)

#laelia belisar #garlean #garlemald #gposers #ffxiv #ffxiv screenshots

[snowbird-down]

Prompt 27: Hail

Contrary to popular belief, Garlemald had a plethora of seasons.

There was Winter, of course – that was the easy one. Winter lasted about six months on average or, if you were really unlucky and got a wet year, closer to eight. It took about a week for Winter to start and somewhere in the vicinity of two months for it to end.

Those two months were called Brown. It was a period of time where the chinooks came in over the Magna Glacies and melted all the snow but it was still freezing balls outside, so nothing dared to grow yet. The grass was flat and dead, the trees pallid and skeletal, and the city caked with dried mud from back when the snow was melting. It still snowed occasionally during Brown of course, usually right after you washed your car to rid it of corrosive road salt, just as the occasional fuck you. Brown also returned for two weeks at the end of Autumn, which itself lasted two weeks, which was all the time it took for the trees to panic and ditch their leaves before the first snows fell.

At last, came Spring. Spring also lasted two weeks. That’s when the vegetation all around exploded into life. Green unfurled and flowers bloomed and it pissed rain like the end of the world.

After Spring came Construction. Construction lasted the two and a half months when everyone else was having Summer, wherein the crews would descend upon the city with their magitek en masse and hurry to repair all the roads and rails from plow damage before it started snowing again. New buildings also went up at this time, so with the end of Winter also came the end of sleeping in, as every crew started bright and early at 6AM. Learning which roads were closed on any given day was a constant game of discovery, especially downtown where the answer was typically “half”.

But there was another part of Construction that made it an especially lively month.

“Ooooh.” Marcus grimaced as the fist-sized hail stone smote Dad’s car, crumpling the hood in. They’d all gathered in the window to watch the storm, but apparently were just in time to witness a murder instead.

“That’ll buff out,” Dad said.

In response, a second stone obliterated the windshield.

“That won’t,” Laelia replied.

#ffxivwrite2022 #laelia belisar #belisar family #garlemald #short little drabble/snippit today cause I got nuttin #also obvs this weather is all headcanon #based from experience of living for ten years in a frozen urban hellscape XD #would not recommend

[endangered-liaison]

Prompt #12: Miss the Boat

They'd known the Alliance was gathering. Of course they'd known, they'd have been idiots not to notice the multicoloured brigade of square-hatted idiots poncing around beyond the walls.

 They just hadn't expected them to strike so hard, so fast.

 Max's senses come back to her a little at a time as the fires rage. She shakes her head; tries to clear her thoughts. Where are they? Where's the dec?

 In front of her, Castellus drops into a crouch and squeezes off a pair of rounds, the volume of the shots dropped down a dull thud, thud in her ears.

 "--WYER!"

 Max blinks as sound abruptly returns to the world, meeting Valens' eyes. Oh. Valens is here. "Yeah?" she asks, rather stupidly. Another explosion goes off, somewhere on the walls, and she barely flinches.

 He holds out a huge, highlander hand for her to grab, and she takes it, letting him heave her back to her feet. She doesn't know what hit her, and she doesn't particularly want to stop and ask.

 "The Wall is breached. The evacuation order came through a few minutes ago, while you were out, but I haven't been able to raise Belisar or Servius since then." He keeps his cool shockingly well as he describes the situation to her, and she offers a quick nod. They're in one of the maintenance sheds near the walls; decent cover. He must have dragged her here while she was...whatever happened to her.

 Her sense of smell is back, and she kind of wishes it wasn't. Everywhere, there's acrid smoke and ceruleum and the scent of ozone that comes with heavy spellcasting. All mixed with the scent of death. How many men did the Eorzeans throw at the wall? How many were already dead to their warmachina, for them to have breached their way through? The smoke makes her throat seize, and she tugs the bandana on her neck up to cover her mouth. It's better than nothing.

 "Get to the airship landing," she manages to say, voice hoarse and barely a rasp. She doesn't know where the rest of the squad are. She has to hope they're already evacuated, or defending the Delphinus.

 Victoria curses, dropping her rifle and drawing her service revolver in a single fluid motion. A rushing Gridanian with a spear takes one bullet, two, three, and falls. The rifle is scooped up, bolt tugged back, and she starts to reload. "We'll be overrun in a few minutes," she says, and her voice only shakes a little.

 "Then we go now." Max rolls her shoulders, stepping past him to lift the bow he'd left propped up against one of the walls. The string's still intact, as a mercy. She'd hate to have to fight through this hellsscape with knives and bad language.

 "The fastest way to the Delphinus is right along the wall," Valens notes, fingers tight on his staff.

 "Low ground's a slaughterhouse. Walls might be enemy territory but it beats an Armored Weapon cuttin' us to ribbons, yeah?" She nocks an arrow, trying to catch her breath as best she can.

 Victoria fires another round, but doesn't offer any disagreement.

 "Break!"

 They rush out, into the open. Into the slaughter.

 _ _ _

 A shard of cermet and steel propels itself forwards by conjury and will, knocking the helmet of an Ishgardian knight clean off. Max doesn't stop to check if it still has the head inside it as she looses an arrow into the chest of a Lominsan...highlander? She doesn't stop to ask his racial heritage, either, just nocking a second arrow to loose into him for good measure.

 "We're almost there!" Max calls out, stepping on the fallen man's chest and tugging the arrows free to reuse.

 There'd still been legionaries fighting on the walls when they made it up to the top. Holdouts, handfuls of them, fighting to the bitter end against swarms of Alliance troops. By now, halfway to the landing pads, it's thinned out. Mostly bodies now. Bodies, and the Eorzeans.

 Victoria's rifle has long since run out of ammo, slung across her back as she shoots another Limsan in the head with her revolver. Valens is alternating between flinging pieces of the wall at people with magic, and physically clubbing them with his staff if they get too close.

 They're almost there. Three fighters, punching through the enemy's lines to reach an extraction. It's so close, when Max hears it.

 The whine of an airship's engines. But not just any airship, and not just any whine. She knows that sound. She knows what it means. And as a ship comes into view, Max knows in her heart that it's the Delphinus.

 She reaches for her vox, yelling into it. She doesn't care how hoarse her voice is, she doesn't care what else is coming through the radio right now. "Snowbird, this is III in need of extraction! Snowbird?" The airship's afterburners spark bright, and it's high and away. "Where the fuck are you, Lee?!"

 There's no response. Nothing. Max had gambled on the wall; gambled on the airship landing. And she'd gambled wrong.

 "Sawyer, what now?!" Valens calls over the roar of battle, but she doesn't hear him. That was their ride out of here, and it's gone.

 "Sawyer!"

 "MAX!" Victoria grabs her arm, snapping her back into the moment. "We need to move!"

 "Back the way we came," she manages to say. "Make for the east exit on foot."

 Victoria nods, turning and facing the lines they'd just cut their way through; the soldiers they'd left standing in their rush, and the ones who had advanced in their wake. Max doesn't move, feet glued in place.

 "...Not without you, Max. Come on."

 Max breathes in, shaky, and turns to face their enemy.

 _ _ _

 They make it. Through fire and blood, hells and high water. Through the slaughtergrounds and the warmachina, and the Alliance forces seemingly fighting amongst themselves.

 That last part had been their saving grace. The forces had turned on one another, as far as Max could tell, beating each other to death and giving the trio room to break their way through the lines.

 As soon as they're through the great gates and into the East End, they break into a sprint. They run until their lungs burn, just trying to get away from the wall lest some archer with a grudge pick them off. They run until their muscles seize and until Max falls to her knees, lungs failing her, coughing and retching and feeling like she might die. The smoke sears her lungs as Valens and Victoria give her space, watching over her in case they need to start running again. Valens could probably carry her again, if it came down to it.

 When the worst of it has passed, she breathes. Ragged and broken, but breathing. She's a mess. Her arms shake as she holds herself up.

 Come on, Sawyer. You're in charge here. You need to get them moving, get them to the evac point. Specula Imperatoris, probably. But Castellum Corvi or Velodyna should still be standing, if they can get that far.

 "Okay," Max says, and the sky alights with a second sun.

 A second moon.

#ffxivwrite2022 #III Squad #Max Sawyer #High and Away #Victoria Castellus #Laelia Belisar

[snowbird-down]

Laelia - What does your heart look like?

a compass that doesn’t waver 

You are someone who is certain of what you want. Maybe you always have been, or maybe you made a discovery that you haven’t been able to tear your eyes away from. Your heart is set and certain. You fight endlessly for your goals. Above all else, you know who you are and what you are trying to achieve. Just be careful not to tear yourself or others apart in pursuit of your ideals.

>>Quiz Here!<<

Tagged by: @craftramsay ! Thank you!! Tagging: @autochthonousone @houserosaire @endangered-liaison @haila-wetyios @rhotanored @reima-awen @norhimorovine @dragons-ire and YOU!

#character memes #tag memes #laelia belisar

[snowbird-down]

Prompt 7: Pawn

“Come on, Belisar, hook me up.”

“Hells no.” Laelia yawned and leaned back in her pilot’s chair. They weren’t in the air, but the Delphinus was still on standby. Besides, it was the biggest, comfiest chair in the ship, and it was hers. “This shit’s a premium out here. The guy growing it’s on the other side of the wall and he only comes around once a moon. I gotta make it last.”

I’xataka laid her ears back and gave Laelia her best kitten eyes. It might have even worked if Laelia didn’t already know that the girl didn’t have a drop of innocence anywhere in her body. “But that’s why it’s good! It’s from the haunted forest. Solus knows what kind of eikon voodoo they grow it with. Everyone’s saying it’s really wild. Come on, I just want a few onzes.”

“Nope.”

“I’ll give you my rations for a week.”

“Nuh uh.”

“Two weeks.”

“Nah.”

“I’ll throw in that lighter you like. And one of my lucky dice.”

Laelia cracked an eye open. “Only one?”

“Well I can’t give all my luck away!”

“Then as they say, no dice.”

“Uuuggghhh.” Taka began to pace around the cockpit. “There’s gotta be something that you want.”

“This is already sounding like the beginning of a porno,” Laelia said. “Actually, yeah. That’s my price. I want your porn stash.”

“All of it!?”

“All of it. Tits or no moko.”

“Fiiiiine.” Taka sighed and turned back for the belly of the ship. “You coulda just asked for mine.”

“Yeah,” Lee said, “But don’t you guys have like, six?”

#ffxivwrite2022 #laelia jen belisar #laelia belisar #iii squad #gotta love the early days

[snowbird-down]

Prompt 26: Break a Leg

“But...but what if they don’t like me?”

Verina’s doe eyes hit critical mass in that moment. It had her siblings all exchanging helpless glances; Tacitus outright wilted.

“Well then you won’t get any fuckin’ tips, but--” Laelia began, until Irene elbowed her.

“You’re going to get tips, Rina,” Irene asserted, leaning in. “You’re kind, and you’re fun, and you’re funny – people will love you!”

Marcus smirked, scratching inside his ear with a pinky finger. “Yeah, and don’t worry about Mom. None of us do a good enough job for her.”

“Speak for yourself,” Irene huffed. “It’s called busing tables, not bulldozing them.”

“I tripped once! Once!!”

But as her elder siblings broke into a cacophony of argue-joking, Verina looked all the closer to tears. At last Tacitus came up behind her and put his hands over her shoulders, leaning in with a gentle smile.

“Remember what you told me once?” he asked.

She peered up at him quizzically.

“About how you liked meeting strangers, because they’re always a surprise?”

Verina nodded.

“Well, think about it like that,” he said. “As a hostess, you’re going to get to meet all kinds of people. Every single person who comes into this restaurant has to say hello to you first.”

“Including the assholes,” Laelia said. Irene elbowed her again.

“Mom asked you for a reason, you know.” Marcus smiled, gesturing to everyone in the room. “I mean, there’s a reason she’s been the one doing it for so long. She had Tas and Reen try it, but they’re too awkward. And Lee and I, uh...kinda piss people off, heh.”

Irene made a strange face. “And whenever she asks Dad to do it, he mysteriously vanishes...”

“The point is...” Marcus leaned in with a grin. “We all think you’re the best person for the job.”

“And you know we have your back, right?” Laelia said. “Anyone gives you trouble, they’re gonna have to answer to all of us!”

In that, the Belisar siblings were in agreement.

#ffxivwrite2022 #laelia belisar #verina belisar #tacitus belisar #irene belisar #marco belisar #belisar family #belisar in cucina #there's so many of them #so #many

[snowbird-down]

Prompt 12: Miss the Boat

“Laelia! Deliveries!~”

Verina’s voice sang so sweetly from downstairs. Laelia grumbled and pulled her headphones down tighter over her ears.

“I need a minute!”

“They gotta go now!”

“I just need a minute!”

One day she’d learn not to start a game up during operating hours, but it was a snow-in kind of day and none of her friends wanted to do anything and she was fucking bored. Of course, the colder it got out the more people tended to order takeout, and sure enough this was the sixth time she’d been summoned for delivery tonight.

The problem was the aethernet. One couldn’t simply pause an online game – a concept that her mother absolutely did not understand. At the moment she was getting spawn camped by what sounded like a twelve year old boy with an equally obnoxious bird in the background. Solus help her, if she ever met him in real life she’d hang him from a coat rack by the underwear and take his lunch money for good measure.

“Laelia!” Verina called again.

“Just—five more minutes!” she called distractedly, as she finally got the upper hand on that damn kid. Just a few more steps and she could drop him...

“LAELIA MARIA PRISCILLA BELISAR. NOW.”

Laelia tossed her controller and sprang to her feet. That wasn’t Verina, that was Mom. And the Emperor himself couldn’t save you if Mom started using your middle names.

She ran downstairs, shrugging on her coat, to find Verina beaming at the counter and Mom absolutely glowering next to her. Verina handed her the box of deliveries as if nothing was wrong at all.

“How many times do we have to go through this, young lady?” Mom demanded. “If you want to keep living under this roof you will do your job!”

“Whatever! I’m going,” Laelia said.

“Don’t you disrespect me.”

“I fucking didn’t.”

“Don’t you curse at me either!”

“Do you want me to go, or not?”

“Justus!” Mom turned with exasperation, but Dad was tempered by the television set they had hanging in a corner of the empty dining room.

“The Blues just pulled ahead,” he said, distractedly.

She rolled her eyes, and in that moment of distraction, Laelia showed herself out.

It’d gotten colder since she’d last set out. Now the snow had re-frozen, and her boots crunched pleasantly over it. Laelia beelined for the car and prayed that some of the heat from her last trip yet remained in it; it did not, and worse, the windshield had frosted over again in her absence. She started the engine and set everything defrosting while she fished out the ice scraper, but the car was sluggish to start in the first place. Stupid beat-up ass old Novus D. The only thing miraculous about Scaeva’s design was that it was cheap. Tacitus had bought it because it was cheap; he only let her use it because he was too busy studying to leave the house anymore.

Laelia checked her watch when she was done; she only had twenty minutes to make all of these deliveries now or – by restaurant policy – they were free.

Welp.

That was plenty of time.

She climbed into the car, hit the radio, and floored it.

The junker peeled off down the street and into the neon night.

If she encountered any Roaders, well...she’d deal with it.

#ffxivwrite2022 #laelia belisar #belisar in cucina #thanks for the vid wyda you inspired me #i'm sharing nutley's headcanon about the level of garlean tech here #do they have online games? who knows #there's also a roman history joke buried in here #10000 internet points if anyone gets it #the name belisar had to come from somewhere :P