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starsfreckled-archived · 3 years

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rain .

about the significance of rain to amaya ( & someone else too ) .

“you still need a name” gyosei looks down at the newborn child in his arms. the girl is awake but does not fuss, however she does turn her head a little, as if trying hear more of the rain. the tall raen slides open one of the doors and settling down there.

yanxia had its very own atmosphere when it rained and the fog rolled in from the mountains. something he had never seen when he had still lived underneath dark waves. he looks back down at the child and with a smile watches as she falls asleep. “how about amaya?” he whispers. ‘night rain’ fitting, considering the time and weather right now.

a loud crash wakes the two au ri up, thunder and lightning rolling over their house. the couple quickly gets up when they can hear crying coming from their daughter’s room. however, upon opening the door, they find that the crying does not come from amaya, but rather haruto, the lupin boy she had befriended.

the boy is huddled against their pet sheep, blanket pulled over both of them and canine ears laying flat on his head. with a smile does ajisai sit down next to him, wrapping an arm around the shivering child “you don’t like storms?” she asks and he shakes his head “they’re scary” he mumbles.

to most people, storms tend to be that way. ajisai did not particularly like them herself and she knows neither does her husband. their daughter however... her eyes wander to the little raen who stands at her window, tail wagging as she watches the rain outside. be it gentle drops or a storm like right now, amaya seemed to love this weather, always eager to watch it.

as the years passed, that love never faded away. it had been one of the first things amaya grew to like about eorzea and the north shroud. as she grew up there one could often find her jump from puddle to puddle in the rain, grinning from horn to horn at her father before rushing back to his side, trying to pull him outside by his hand.

she never minded working in her garden during the rain. at some point a second figure joined her as she grew closer and closer with an elezen boy from the near village.

it’s a rainy night, after the calamity, that makes her smile for the first time ever since burying her father and fiance. it’s a rainy day when the scions hear her laugh from the bottom of her heart, for the first time. when she runs outside the waking sands, ignoring tataru calling after her that she will catch a cold.

it is storming when the knowledge finally settles in her, that operation archon had been a success. the loud thunder rolls over her laughter as she feels like a hero of old. calming rain falls when she sits in a wagon, fleeing from ul’dah and trying to tell herself that it will be fine. she’ll find the scions again. they’d all be reunited and then she would force them outside of the rising stones to watch the rain fall into silvertear lake.

...it rains when she visits the churning mists to return hraesvelgr’s eye to him after the battle with nidhogg. it’s been weeks, but only now can she be sure that her wounds won’t open back up, even if she returns the eye to the wyrm. it had kept her alive after nidhogg had ripped through her side. she stands there, looking up at the sky and at some point she cannot tell if her face has gotten wet from the raindrops or from her tears, as the past few months all come crashing down on her. the constant fear for the scions, the pain of all those battles, of all the losses... she had buried too many loved ones. and she crumbles there, on her knees, crying while the great white dragon raises a wing to cover her from the storm.

amaya excuses herself with a silent voice, stepping away from the domans celebration of their newly won freedom. she tries to give the twins a smile, though it seems more like a grimace. but she needs to be alone. walking to her chocobo, she climbs on hiko’s back.

it takes her a few hours to find the place, the house between namai and the one river. her house. it has nearly fully fallen apart by now, but she still recognizes it. the raen stands there, when the first drops fall, but she does not mind. it’s the first time she feels somewhat at peace in months. “I did it” she whispers, towards the house, towards the memories and ghosts within it. “...doma is free.” her parents wish had finally come true, though both of them were not here to see it. were not here to see any of her accomplishments. but standing in their old home... it feels like maybe, just maybe they are listening.

amaya watches from her window in the pendant. it is silent outside, lakeland seems so peaceful now, with the night returned to all of norvrandt. even as clouds roll in and bring thunder and lightning, there seems to be a calmness to it that she could appreciate. she walks out of the room and starts strolling through the crystarium. it brings her joy, seeing the people stand still and watch the first night rain in over a hundred years. and then she laughs, because it is ridiculous and stupidly cliche that her name, very much translates to it. ‘night rain’ what a fitting name for the warrior of darkness, not even the most naive, most flowery of poets could come up with something that stupid.

...

it rains, the first time she leaves the city by herself. the first time she walks through the forests around amaurot. azem stands there, raising her hands to slide off the hood from her head and removing her masks. the feeling of rain on her face makes her laugh and she lets out a sigh of tranquility. she cannot imagine that her soul would ever stop loving the rain.

#❝ ᵇᵃʳᵉ ʸᵒᵘʳ ᵗᵉᵉᵗʰ ˡᶦᵏᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒˡᵈ ʷᶦⁿᵈ ᵘᵖᵒⁿ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵒᵒʳˢ ❞╱ about .#❝ ᵃ ʷᵃˢᵗᵉ ᵒᶠ ᶜᵖ ❞╱ little creations .#❝ ᵇᵉʸᵒⁿᵈ ᵗʰᵉ ᵗʳᵉᵉˢ ᶦ ᵍˡᶦᵐᵖˢᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ˢᵉᵃ ᶦᵗ ᶜᵃˡˡˢ ᵐᵉ ᵗʰᵉ ʷᵒʳˡᵈ ᶦˢ ʷᵃᶦᵗᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ ᶠᵒʳ ᵐᵉ ❞╱ azem about .

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vibrantstillness · 5 years

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Prompt #17: Obeisant

"At once, my lady."

The young Roegadyn straightened from his kneel and bowed once, then was off down the teahouse garden’s path and into the street. Despite his tender age, the messenger boy was nearly taller than those he served, and undoubtedly would be in scant few years' time. Michishio watched him turn and worked to keep the frown from her face, lest he take it as displeasure - though it was, just not with him. Every time a servant bowed low, every time they kneeled or called her 'my lady,' she was seized with a desire to heatedly insist that no, that was her job. She was the servant. And yet, she knew such exhortations would only invite confusion and chaos in the Enclave's rigidly tiered society, so she bit them back.

She'd enjoyed authority once, briefly. In an almost petty manner, she'd been pleased how, as the personal assistant to the commander of Yousai's militia, she wielded no actual authority... but it was tacitly understood that any suggestions she had may as well be orders from the top. Although... that was it, wasn't it? It wasn't her authority. Even in the implied invocation of her own, it was merely an appeal to the commander's. The very act of speaking placed her several rungs down, serving those above her. A follower attending the interests of her betters. It was comforting to have such a place - a right hand, not the throne itself. Yet here she was, the lady of her own house.

She sighed thinly through her nose. Her father's house, technically, though he'd had no involvement with anything from day one other than granting her his full blessing, acting authority, and the little carved stone stamp that served as the House Sakanoue seal. Yet here, she was not a servant, unless in an oblique manner to the throne of Doma... But only the elite enjoyed direct access to their king. For such a minor upstart house as Sakanoue to request an audience was unthinkably arrogant. Michishio was, to her great discomfiture, her own master.

Many seemed to find the power to chart their own course exhilarating, freeing. Michishio simply found it an unwelcome, worrisome burden. She had a place in Eorzea, a role waiting for her if she'd but settle into it. And yet, her duties in Doma - duties she was no longer at all beholden to, strictly speaking, had caught her in some hidden game of intrigue that may or may not even exist. The threads of duty were thin as a spider's web yet strong as a blade’s steel, entangling and cutting in equal measure. Here she was now, beholden to a sister house that pled for allies and a people who wished for the return of their own identity.

It was in some ways a mirror of Michishio's own struggle. Twin duties saw her suspended above an impossible divide - was she loyal to her husband, despite his repeated insistences she was an equal and no servant? His was a rising star, she was sure of it, a man with great potential but lacking the will to grasp all of which he was capable. She could be that to him. Besides, for that matter, why could not an equal serve out of love and reverence? His protests seemed almost childish, in that light.

Or was she loyal to her family name, and the people of a broken nation it once shepherded? Doma's acquisition of Santake had been entirely accidental, a side effect of Garlemald's enthusiasm in crushing Kaien's rebellion. The tiny mountain nation's borders controlled vital passes in the Fanged Crescent to the west, and so it too had burned in Garlemald's bid for an unshakable stranglehold on Yanxia. In the bustle of Doma's rebirth, the relative backwater had been nearly forgotten and left to fend for itself with the Garleans expelled and its ruling houses long since fled. Was she to be the voice of a people she ill knew, co-magistrate of a land to which she'd never been?

But it was not the country that motivated her. No, it was the people. It was Ayanga, her steppe-born swordsman caught, as was she, between two worlds; his heritage and the nation he'd adopted as his own. It was Tomoe, her attendant, the young Santakan blade whose quiet anger surfaced only in the momentary distance of her eyes or the set of her jaw; old and cooled like obsidian. Like a scar. The people of Santake were a distant dream but to these, her retainers, she owed a debt. She was their lady. She was the house they had sworn to serve.

Which path was she then to choose? Was to pursue them both to consign all to failure? Which was the old, which was the new? Which was reverent, which was selfish? If someone could but tell her what was most selfless, what was most respectful, what was most useful... But Michishio had only herself and the exhortations of her lord husband to pursue what she truly desired.

To forsake the life she'd built in Eorzea was to declare herself a servant no longer, beholden to none and defiant of all adversities. And yet... To do so would be to sacrifice part of herself in so doing. She was a servant. It was not some role she had adopted, it was her nature down to the marrow of her bones. To cast it aside would leave only the hollow shell of gold leaf and half-truths that comprised Lady Sakanoue. And yet, to withdraw from the court might well be consigning an untold number to languish in obscurity... and the betrayal of the hope placed in her besides. Could she be both, servitor and lord?

She did not know. She would have to try. Sloth was never one of her vices. She abruptly realized she'd been staring at the little garden's gatepost for the past several minutes and arranged herself more squarely at her table to finish her afternoon refreshment. Tomorrow would come, as it inevitably must, with a host of its own worries. For now, she could but fulfill her duties.

#FFxivWrite2019 #Michishio Sakanoue #Ayanga Uyagir #Tomoe Ashina #FFXIV RP #Mateus RP #Crystal RP

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departeddestiny · 5 years

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Kurasa was borne in the kingdom of Doma, before the Garlean occupation. His mother was Tsuki Orl, a well known seamstress that wove magic with her fingers and incorporated bold colors into a style that she was praised for. His father, Ryoma Orl, was one of the top ranking military officials who held a decorated history. Four years prior they had another child, Kurasa’s older sister, Chiharu. They were not close growing up and it would not be until years passed that Kurasa could admit that she was one of the most loving people he had ever met - it was because of her bravery and need to keep him safe that they survived many tragedies.

Garlemald invaded Yanxia from the west when Kurasa was seven and they quickly overtook the kingdom. Because of his unwillingness to step down, Ryoma was captured and executed as an example to the other Doman citizens of the price they would pay, should they continue to resist. Kurasa could remember how they were all assembled in the market square, forced to watch as the military leaders were lined up. One moment they stood there, the silver of the guns glinted in the sun as they were lifted. Never having heard a gunshot before, let alone multiple, the sound physically startled the boy. But still slitted eyes stared at his father, watched in horror as blood blossomed from the small hole in his chest. Anger rose like a tidal wave and had Tsuki not dragged the boy away, there might have been more death that day.

Three years had gone by since the passing of Ryoma and his absence was all too clear to the now family of three. The Garlean forces that occupied Doma stripped the citizens of all they knew, added pressures that were hard to handle. Within the Orl clan, many conspired to leave, to find a place where they could start over and live without fear of stepping out of line. On the night that the castle was razed, Tsuki as well as Sindurgu’s parents, took the opportunity to flee with their families and what few belongings they possessed. Kurasa was 10.

It took five years to reach Coerthas. Five years of worry for whether or not they would truly find the destination they sought. The central highlands that they planned to settle into were protected by Ishagard, said to be bountiful - it was also close to Dravania. There are those within the Orl clan whom always felt themselves like their dragon brother and sisters, it unknown that one amoung them had been blessed with the blood of their kin. Throughout their travels, they had heard whispers of a war between dragons ( wyrms ) and Ishardians but that did little to stop their pilgrimage and settlement. During his travels, Kurasa had grown from a young lad to a teenager, with the attitude to prove such. Valuable skill sets such as hunting, fishing, the mending of cloth and gear, were taught to the man. Sindurgu’s father had become mentor to him, did all he could to help the kid grow into someone that would make his family proud.

One day when Kurasa snuck away from camp, he happened upon a young Elezen who held himself a manner that made the Xaela intent on being rude. Despite this the young man welcomed Kurasa with open arms, seeming to not mind that he was of a difference race. Eventually after many visits, the two became friends. Kurasa showed a side of himself not many were able to see. But in light of the hostility between their peoples, they decided to keep their friendship a secret.

The Calamity. Utter destruction and chaos ensued after Bahamut broke free of Dalamud. Coerthas had become a tundra in it’s wake - the sudden freezing killed many; Elezen and Xaela alike, plants, and animals. Those that were left were forced to adapt. Animal fur became a source of insulation, fires were kept burning day and night, food was scarce. Because of all this, the twenty ( 20 ) year old was forced to learn how to survive in the harshest climate: the cold did not have any sympathy for weak. Thankfully, he was blessed by his ancestors with a strong survival instinct and a body that rarely faltered. So that too, he did survive.

Kurasa cannot fully recall what happened that fateful night. Screams echoed through the once peaceful air that surrounded the camp, woke the sleeping man with a start from his slumber. A hand snagged his, grip tight as it yanked him from the tent into the open; almost immediately slitted eyes began to water as they took in the site of their camp burning. The smoke hung heavy as fire licked across cloth, remained alight due to the belongings that were brought to this new land. Chiharu’s voice to his right brought the man from his daze, reminded him that it was not the time to falter - but as he tried to tug his hand free from his sisters, his mothers voice could be heard; begged him to run. For both of her children to run. No, he couldn’t. He had to fight. He had to prove himself a force against the enemy that threatened them. Yet the his sister’s grip remained tight in his palm, she tugged pleadingly.

It was either he have stayed and watched as his entire family died, or left and promise vengeance against those that harmed his people. One last look in the direction his mother’s voice came, and the pair turned heel and ran. Refused to look behind in case their were monsters that wished to give chase. Only when the two found shelter within a cave, hidden against the face of a mountain, did it finally dawn on Kurasa: he would never see his mother again.

Two years after they fled the massacre of the Orl tribe, Kurasa and Chiharu finally arrived in Gridania. With the skills taught by her mother and utilized during their travels, Chiharu became a part of the weavers guild and her brother? He helped anyone that needed it. The city-state had been hit hard by the Calamity and work could always be found. It was during this time that an interest in the lancers guild took hold of the Xaela. Previously having used different knives and daggers, the man took up the weapon for the first time.

When the Warrior of Light first walked into the Canary’s Nest, Kurasa had found himself settled into the a table in the corner; steaming cup of tea in hand. Slitted eyes the color of jacinth lifted upon sensing their presence, watched quietly from afar as they approached Mother Mouinne. He knew that fate has something in store for them - call it a hunch. By this point, the Au Ra had become a well known member of the Lancer’s Guild. His strength unsurpassed and accuracy with his weapon deadly. Kurasa also found himself center of a rumour that when filled with drink, he became a ‘loving’ lizard in comparison to his naturally cold demeanor. One he planned to prove the contrary. But in the time since he and Chiharu arrived in the city-state, the two had been able to make a home for themselves, as much as they could amoung the Elezen.

In the time between his encounter with the Warrior of Light, Kurasa felt an unease inside himself. He should have been doing something more than rebuilding a city-state, more than training with a weapon he felt himself having mastered. There were other cities out there to explore, to find a living in - perhaps he still sought a purpose. Partings were made and with Chiharu’s tear stained features stuck in his head, Kurasa left Gridania for Ul’Dah. Once there he became a sell sword and occasionally took on a bounty. Days were spent asleep and when the night came, Kurasa awoke to prowl the city; intent on his next adventure. After months of this lifestyle, there was news that the rising tension between Ishgard and Dravania was at an all time high.

With the Dragonsong War in full swing, whispers heard everywhere he went, Kurasa felt sympathy for the dragons...and rage towards those who occupied Ishgard. They had killed his clansmen because of their beliefs ( that the Au Ra descended from dragons but also they were partly to blame for the Calamity ). Since he was little, he always felt that it was the blood of dragons that coursed through his veins. Perhaps the claims were true? Or maybe he had been borne special. His appearance differed greatly from any Au Ra he had come across thus far; slitted eyes, fanged teeth, scales that were cracked and flowed with lava. Perhaps he could be of use to the Horde, but as someone who fought at their side. No. Wishing to help the creatures, he set off.

That year became a turning point for who Kurasa was. Initially having visited the Churning Mists, the Xaela found himself face to face with those he felt most alike. Dragons. Originally threatening in their demeanor, conversation was had where the man expressed his willingness to be of help. To penetrate the Ishgardian forces. It was only because they saw him as useful that they allowed him to live, unbeknownst to Kurasa.

Once arrived in Ishgard, Lancer abilities in hand, the request to join the Ishgardian Military was not so far fetched; pretend to hate dragons, show interest in protecting the nation. Doing so allotted the Xaela to learn further, become a dragoon under the watchful eye of those within the Holy See. At the same time he secretly moonlighted as an informant for the Dravanian Horde. It was during this time he became close to Aymeric de Borel, used his connection initially to further gain information. Of course, whether the kinship meant something to the Xaela, none are the wise these days. Kurasa held a grudge towards Ishgardians, for killing his clan. His mother. Though he fought for the nation, he did not kill any dragons. Maimed, perhaps. But he had to play the part.

The fall of Nidhogg affected him little - perhaps a momentary sadness came from death of the great wyrm but all in all, nothing more could be done. When the end of the war came, Kurasa disappeared without a word; whispers of the Xaela having visited Sohm Al followed. After such, the man went back to Ul’Dah to resume the life he had left. And he’s been there since.

#|| -- The Truth Revealed: Headcanon #( just a general overview )#( you cannot see post on mobile if I put a 'read more' )#( merp )#( Timeline )

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chidorifarcloud · 5 years

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full name. Chidori Farcloud pronunciation. Chi-dori nicknames. Chi height. 5 ft 5 inches. age. 22 zodiac. Taurus languages. Eorzean Common, Hingan.

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour. Pale Blonde eye colour. Pale blue with darker blue rings skin tone. Pale body type. Average. accent. Slightly. dominant hand. Right hand posture. Tends to sit and stand pretty straight, when uneasy she will cross an arm in front of her. scars. N/A tattoos. N/A most noticeable features. Her bright eyes & the general appearance of flowers in her hair.

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth. Orozo, small hidden village out in the mountains of Yanxia. hometown. Orozo. birth weight. 5 lb 4 ounces manner of birth. A natural birth. first words. “Ashi.” when she tried to say Arashi. siblings. In order to youngest to eldest, Minori, Kumori, Sayori & Arashi. parents. Haru & Kaori Farcloud.

ADULT LIFE

occupation. Assistant to the Knoltros, Mage, Florist (started as a hobby, now has a shop!) & part-time actresses/idol. (taking on mostly minor roles.) current residence. Lives with Roger in Shirogane. close friends. Outside of her family, Sela. Others she holds dear are: Raik, Aden, Erdene, Flynt, Merrick, Qestir (even though she can be a handful and a half.) While she doesn’t get to see them once in a blue moon, she also holds Kana, Rin & Tin man & Chouwa in high regard. relationship status. Engaged to Roger Holmes. financial status. Reasonably well off with Roger’s income included. driver’s license. N/A vices. She likes to skinny dip & not always at appropriate times. Sometimes when she is doodling absentmindedly, things start to take on the shape of a very lewd...Roger.

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation. Demisexual romantic orientation. Demi Romantic preferred emotional role. submissive | dominant | switch | unsure preferred sexual role. submissive | dominant | switch | sex repulsed libido. Average, may change depending on her partner. turn on’s. Soft touches, soft kisses. Roger. turn off’s. Too much aggression from a stranger, too rough in bed. love language. Soft touches, lots of snuggling and cuddling. relationship tendencies. Very faithful, even through the worst of times.

MISCELLANEOUS.

hobbies to pass the time. Drawing/art, gardening, dancing, singing. mental illnesses. I wouldn’t call it a mental illness, but she does repress things. physical illnesses. Low iron. left or right brained. Right fears. Lighting/thunder storms, being left behind, being left alone. self confidence level. Medium confidence. vulnerabilities. Family, her pets, Roger, those she cares about.

Tagged by @jurien-ashur 💝

Tagging: Everyoooone.

#rp meme #chidorifarcloud #I know everyone is a little of a cop out #but I mean it! I'm just like..gonna go smack my face into some pillows #idk how I'm this tired...>.<

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crimson-sunrise-ffxiv · 6 years

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Character Roster/Alt Introduction!

I figured with a full Balmung roster, and looking to get back fuller swing into RP, I should post the lovelies for everyone to see!

Nerkhun Malaguld 25/M/Xaela Balmung Birthplace: Azim Steppe Alignment: Chaotic Neutral Link: @poetry-in-exile Family. Such a strange word. Depending on your definition of it, Nerkhun has either had many, or long lived without. Born among the Tumet, lost in his coming of age, and raised by a Raen and a Miqo’te. Such parents were also lost in the death of his twin, and he has sought little family, or even close friends, since. Until recently, he thought the blood on his hands to be his doom, one he would not curse another with. Such has changed greatly in a series of event that, although unexpected, hold no regrets for the man. Recently engaged to Ulan, daughter of a well-to-do Qestir merchant family, Nerkhun is braving unknown territory in his life. Planning for a future, let alone one with a family, had not much occurred to him until Ulan. Yet... even as he plans to make “family” his own... his past might not be so far behind... RP Hooks -Nerkhun has worked as a bounty hunter (and assassin) in the past, both before and after coming to Eorzea. He has worked contracts with both the Maelstrom and the Flames, as well as private, building a reputation for effective, if not always incredibly fast, work. Perhaps you had a mark taken by him, or worked with him as a grand company liason? -He for some time would sing on the rocks off the beaches of Vylbrand, particularly the mists or costa, late at night. Perhaps you heard a low voice singing tales and laments in Xaelic? -Often, Nerkhun can be found out in the world. Though he generally keeps to himself, he is not generally averse to company, though he tends to be reserved if found in the wilds.

Ariquette Wolfsdottir 20/F/Keeper of the Moon Balmung Birthplace: (The Black Shroud) Raised in Ul’Dah Alignment: Neutral Good Link: @silksteel-mooncatte Out of place well describes how Ariquette has felt through most of her life, though she knows not what in place might be. Raised from late infancy by an old retired gladiator on the streets of Ul’Dah, she learned early that there are those who will try to take anything you can not defend. She learned to fight, and fight well, making up for her small size. Upon reaching an age where begging led to poeple asking for... favors, and having no taste for theft, Ariquette turned to the Arena, finding a promoter who knew her surrogate father to get her in, despite her youth. Fighting as the red wolf, daughter of the black wolf, she has found some small success for herself, as distasteful as she finds it. Recently, Ariquette has met Mhira Karahli, a young woman who judges her not by her looks, or her potential to make money. She is finally learning what it might be to have friends for reasons other than convenience. Though, in this case, this friendship may be closer than either girl may suspect... Rp Hooks -A gladiator of minor note in Ul’Dah, perhaps you have bet on one of her fights? or perhaps you fought with or against her? -Those who grew up on the streets of Ul’Dah around the same time would have heard not to mess with Blackwolf or his daughter, particlarly after some bashed heads or well placed shards of glass. Perhaps you were a friend from this time, or remember having a run in with her?

Tsaivarod Dazkar 28/F/Half Xaela-Half Raen Balmung Birthplace: The Azim Steppe Alignment: Chaotic Evil/Neutral Link: @pale-star-of-the-steppe Pale Star. That’s what her name meant. What her mother chose to call her, the child resulting from an illicit tryst with the travelling Raen ronin. Pale Scales. That’s what her peers called her as she grew up, as they threw her in the dirt and laughed. She vowed it would be them who would pale, once she was grown, and pale they did. An exquisite huntress among a tribe known for excellence, Tsaivarod built herself a reputation. Her skills among her tribe are unapproachable, the beauty of her lithe, powerful form unmatched... or so she would claim. None yet have proven her wrong. A consummate hedonist, Tsaivarod believes that as the best she deserves the best. She has left her tribe of Dazkar for the time being, to explore, and experience the world’s pleasures. A woman who knows well what she wants, she very rarely lacks the will or ability to act upon her desires. RP Hooks -Tsaivarod stands out in a crowd. Though not tall or imposing, her clear lean strength, paired with her pale skin, mottled black and white scales (sometimes painted with mother of pearl) and model of dress make her a rare sight, even for most other Xaela -As a traveller, she seeks to experience the world. If you seem like you know what you are doing, or have something she might want... she may approach you herself.

Chevoiseau Courcheuff 35/M/Duskwight Balmung Birthplace: Ferndale, Coerthas Alignment: Neutral Good Link: @gracious-gillionaire A devout child, born in a land known for it’s devotion, Chevoiseau was placed early on the path to being an Inquisitor by his eager parents. Most who know him now would never be able to tell that Inquisition had once been his path. Through circumstances he doesn’t generally reveal, he left Coerthas and gained a long scar over one eye. He now makes his living as a gambler, and a breeder of chocobos for conniseurs at the Gold Saucer. His stock is known for it’s performance, and he is known for being an enjoyable social partner... if you don’t mind having fewer winnings than you might, had you chosen someone else to bet against. RP Hooks -Chevoiseau is easygoing and sociable, and will take time from his day to speak with most anyone who approaches. He tends to be most easily found in the gold saucer, though he does spend some time in the shroud, and ocasionally Dravania. -Are you a gambler? perhaps a chocobo racer or someone of wealth wishing to sponsor a chocobo racer? Chevoiseau is fairly well known for having a very good stock of birds, for a very reasonable price, as well as being a skilled gambler himself. If you want a challenge or a bird, he’s your man. -While rare, it is possible there may be people who recognize him from his younger days in the Ishgardian Clergy. Did his participation in the Inquisition effect you somehow? perhaps he was a childhood friend?

Midori Himajo 34/F/Hingan Midlander Balmung Birthplace: Mountain Village North of Bukyo Alignment: True Neutral Link: @greenfire-ffxiv Many who hear the title “witch” have a set of expectations. Very few of them include provision for a small, snippy blacksmith within that title. Midori considers herself a bladesmith first, and a mage second, taking great pride in her fine craftsmanship. Indeed, very few, if any, can claim their blades are as “handcrafted” as hers. Specializing in arms that complement aether, her prices tend towards the absurd, unless she considers a cause worth supporting. Often coming across as jaded, the woman has little time for fools, though she can even be... pleasant in some circumstances. Except with garleans. To them she affords no pleasantries. RP Hooks -Midori’s bladework is rare, but of incredible quality. Not easy to come by or hear of, she is, nonetheless, simple to find should you find one who knows of her work. Perhaps you wish to commission a blade? or simply observe her methods? -She tends to wander Hingashi, being a native, though she spends much time in Kugane. Being the one open port, she gets to experience the foreigners... and keep an eye on the Garleans she trusts so little. -There have been some rumours of those who know her work that she has been seen near Limsa Lominsa of late, though these are not easily confirmed. What reason might she have to travel so far?

Kuroko Dairu 41/M/Raen(?) Balmung Birthplace: Unknown Alignment: Lawful Neutral/Good Link: @yanxian-water-spirit For the sheer number of people he has met, and places he has been, very little is known of the man known by those in Yanxia as Kurokodairu, and on the steppe as Tsagaanmatar. A wandering healer and mystic, he travels as the waters call to him, and if it has a coastline in the east, he has likely been seen there at least once. While he tends to lean heavily on his distinctive bladed staff, his movements suggest that he likely doesn’t need to. His approach tends to be given away by the tinklink of many glass vials he keeps tied to a net wrapped around his upper body. While not perhaps intentionally secretive, his vague and open way of answering questions leaves much mystery to his past. Recently called by the tides to Aldenard, Kuroko has been wandering aimlessly, healing those who need it and surviving mostly on his own in the wilds. If you come across a towering Raen alone by the water, there is little reason to fear... though if you wish another ill, perhaps you will see why “Crocodile” is not so frivolous a title. RP Hooks -Kuroko wanders much, though he tends to stay near water. If you tend to be in the wilds, perhaps you might see him. He does not go to great lengths to hide. -If you are a hearer, or particularly in tune with the Black Shroud, you might find Kuroko with some ease. The elementals are.... quietly upset by his presence. They tolerate him, but murmur their preference he be elsewhere.

Isceald Shaffan 23/F/Mixed Elezen/Hyur Balmung Birthplace: Radz-at-Han Alignment: Chaotic Good Link: @cold-desert-wind-ffxiv

Truly a daughter of the tradeways, Isceald Shaffan revels in experiencing people and cultures. Born to two parents of mixed descent, a Doman and Thavnairian father, and an Ala Mighan and Ishgardian mother, Isceald learned early the more personal values of trade and exchange. Growing up in Radz-at-Han, she wandered the markets and Bazaars, speaking with and befriending those she could, from the merchants themselves and their children, to the street urchins and thieves who plied their trade. While friendly and open, even generous to most, Isceald quickly learned to be clever enough not to be taken in by swindlers, and strong enough to defend both herself and those smaller and weaker than her. As she came of age, her parents both began to wither to disease, and she stepped in to help with their trade business and to care for them, even as debt collectors and nobles swept in like vultures to pick at the pieces of the business. Refusing to become Jaded by misfortune, Isceald has left Thavnair, seeking to re-grow her family’s meager business enough that she might care for her parents, or at least their legacy. A still warm and friendly woman, she trades mostly in small scale, spices or curiousities, knowing that profit enough will follow those who make the right connections. RP Hooks -Isceald has spent most of her life in Thavnair, mostly Radz-at-Han. She freely mingled among most levels of society. Perhaps you know her from there? an old friend, or perhaps someone who simply thinks her naive and easy to take advantage of? -Are you a merchant, or business owner? perhaps you work in customs? Isceald is always looking for new avenues to bring her imports in, and her prices tend to be very reasonable for the quality of goods she usually deals in.

Abarklin Fyrilspaer/Sparrow/Etoille Moineaux 37/--/Duskwight Siren/Discord Birthplace: Ishgard Alignment: Chaotic Good Born a daughter to a wealthy merchant house of mild nobility in Ishgard, Etoille Moineaux lived the first years of their life as could be expected of one of their standing. It was when they were promised into a loveless marriage to a Dragoon serving house Dzemael that they panicked, and ran. After almost a cycle on the run, they ended up in Limsa Lominsa, being given shelter by a Roegadyn woman working for Mealvann’s Gate. Though they soon fell in love and spent several wonderful years together, Etoille could never shake the feeling that their past might catch up to them. Eventually these fears led them to flee. Joining the crew of a pirate vessel, and changing their name, Abarklin Fyrilspaer, or Sparrow, set out to make a life free of their past. Even as they ran, though, they never quite forgot the woman they once loved, abandoned so suddenly, and something kept drawing them back to Limsa... (If you want to know more about or RP with Sparrow, just poke me!) ________________________________________________________________ OOC info below the cut!

I operate from GMT-8/Pacific Standard Time, and as is, am free generally whenever I am awake (barring prior commitments!) I’m generally cool with most themes, including mature ones, though I have a preference to fade to black if things get Saucy I’m always down for pre-established relationships if that’s your jam, but fresh meetings can always be fun as well! If you want to RP, or learn more about anyone, or even just headcanon or throw your own OCs at me, feel free to poke me on Tumblr, send an ask, or on Discord (Rusty Koala#3591) (some of their blogs are still bare bones/not really running yet, but as I RP, IC and aesthetic stuff should show up. Nerk’s blog/this one should generally be the most active though, and asks are always sent from my main blog which isn’t FF related)

#Abarklin Fyrilspaer #Nerkhun Malaguld #Midori Himajo #Tsaivarod Dazkar #ariquette wolfsdottir #Chevoiseau Courcheuff #kuroko dairu #Isceald Shaffan

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onyamitnu · 7 years

Text

A bit of an update

Hey everyone! It’s been quite sometime since my last post stating that I was going to provide an update on O’nya. There has just been a lot going on, not just IC, but OOC as well. From work schedule being hectic to drastic changes of my characters IC life, but this major post isn’t going to be a dull update about the Mun’s life, this is about my lovely little muse, O’nya. If interested, do keep on reading below.

From before the events of Stormblood, O’nya’s private life had become complacent, comfortable, and that was fine for a time till it was becoming self-evident to herself that nothing was changing, no one was moving foreword. It was the same monotonous routine over and over. Of course because of this is caused a strain on her relationship with Risea, and over time, before the events of Stormblood, Risea and O’nya had a talk, a good long talk about what they mean for one another and what their future was going to mean. It came to a conclusion that the feelings they had for one another, although loving it was, it wasn’t as deeply as they thought, it was just a deep loving bond of friendship, so they agreed to go their separate ways, of course they would still stay the best of friends. Risea free to stay within the House of Scarlette as she pleased and to keep the warehouse, O’nya had built for her.

From the point of their breakup, O’nya did have a heartache in her chest, a empty space, but that was a given with what had occurred. She had been catching wind of the Liberation force over in Othard starting their actions again. Maybe this would be a new chance to make up for the past sins she had been accused of. Of course, though a ninja once is a ninja forever, she returned back to her homelands, but under the guise of Kai, written in meaning for ‘Release’, a black haired Miqo’te now during her time in Othard. Without words to any save for her daughter Lunae and her best friend Risea, she left for Othard in hopes of liberating her home from the clutches of Garlemald. To try again after failing before, and if she never returned, well that would be the price she paid for what she had done in her life until that point. Falling while trying to rescue her homeland, well...she could live with that. For the months she spent back in Yanxia she worked day in and day out, scouting mission after scouting mission, after scouting mission. Course there wasn’t much movement happening, It was just her and a small band of survivors willing to fight back. It was a bleak hope, merely few remnants who desired for a world that once was, but didn’t hold the firepower to do. Was this the way she was going to go, fighting another hopeless fight?

Several months there, it wasn’t until events in Gyr Abania had started to pick up. That the winds would start to change for a different. Most nights in Yanxia, O’nya spent her nights outside on one of the many stone pillars gazing out to Doma castle and staring at the wreckage of the place she once use to fight for.

Days and nights pasted almost like a blur until one hot day, O’nya was out and about on a walk, where she had come across a face she had not seen since months past upon the Lominsan Docks. Someone who had managed to find her even across the seas, across rivers, this was all a bit much really. For one to come across so much, and so far for someone like her. O’nya found it rather hard to believe there would be such a person, well not all that difficult actually, Risea had once hunted her down long ago and found her on her rather ill, but that was a much shorter distance then this. This was over seas, mountains, in a strange foreign land, and all this just to have dinner with her. O’nya never did well against people with sincerity, nor did she do well with people who were as stubborn as mountains. It was a frustrating process, and maybe she was already at the end of her ropes. She came here to fight, not to have flights of fancy, she came to die for her people, not to find a reason to live. She came back to Othard to receive forgiveness, not to be loved. But try and she might, well it was hard to refuse a dinner from someone who crossed an ocean just to find you.

There was an attachment that grew, that first was indented to just stay a secret, Yisira was just to be a secret she kept as a possible escape from the downward spiral she was throwing herself too. This Lominsan Miqo’te hauling her tail over the treacherous seas just to have dinner with this Eastern Miqo’te, who knew things would develop in such a way, where O’nya had felt for things she never expected too. She yearned for a life she thought impossible for her. Yisira had given news to her that she would be staying with O’nya in Yanxia, of course, O’nya refused, but she didn’t do well against the stubbornness that Yisira held. So for the coming moons O’nya no long spent her nights upon the pillars gazing out to Doma and it’s castle, and spent it staring at the ceiling of the room Yisira and her shared. She had come to realize that she couldn’t let this one die out here so far away from home. She had to make sure this one made it back, even if she had to go back on the promise she made with Yisira about returning with her, but deep down it pained O’nya so, she...she too wanted to return back with her to Eorzea, but she didn’t know what the future held, she couldn’t with confidence say they would both return and absolutely mean it. Of course she kept these thoughts to herself, putting on her best smile and made a promise with Yisira, not certain that could keep it. This is why she hated making promises in the first place. The coming days, was scouting mission after scouting mission, and training in their free time. She would teach Yisira of her ways, of the lesson’s her own master taught to her, she would pass them onto Yisira in hopes they would increase her chances at survival.

Her biggest journey yet and her only goal now; survive and return Yisira to Eorzea with or without herself one way or another. With the events that had transpired with the WoL coming to Othard and bringing moral and forces for the liberation, their survival was increased beyond whatever O’nya could ever imagine. The Xaela, the Kojin, the villaers of Namai, more and more would come to take back what was once taken from them and others to assist. This filled her heart with joy, and she could see there being a glimmer of hope that she would succeed in taking Yisira back home. which brings up to the point of the present, the return to Eorzea. O’nya still had some unfinished business in Yanxia, but there are plans set in play. Plans to which she would die trying to see through, plans of a wedding, plans of a life to be, another war she had to go through, a war not for her own people, a war for her friend’s people. A war for her lovers people. A war with herself, a war to make it to the life she’s been desiring this whole time. What will become of lovely little O’nya the Miqo’te from across the sea. The Miqo’te whose past is littered with blood and who only sees of a future bathes in red. Will there be good times ahead or will bad times continue to happen. She raised her blade now, but no longer for a life of death, she raised her blade to seek a life to live, a life with light and hope, a life to where she could put down her blade for good. Someday that may be granted to her, but no one knows. For now O’nya has hopes, and she had a future she desires to see.

A future of adventure

A future with hope

A future to protect

A future to love

A future with her.

@lightning-yisi

#Miqo'te #Balmung #O'nya #New changes #Yisira

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