#this is actually a huge turning point for Idanwyn

[idanwyn-et-al]

Surging Tides.

Idanwyn's eyes flutter closed; to her crew, she looks like the worst parody of her that they'd heard about from the mutinous Breathless. No regard for clan markings, check (they’d been scrubbed from her); wears silly clothes, check (they’d been assigned to her); pale and tired and useless, check that box, bo's'n. Idanwyn sees the slacking able crew swinging their bare feet over the larboard railing; she can hear their snickering. It's too much, enough to outweigh her exhaustion. Standing to her full height of six fulms, three ilms--small for a Roe, but tall enough---she clenches her fists and raises her dominant left hand to the deck, extending her knobbly index finger. Her aetheric tattoo surges to life, and she sends a gout of wind---something akin to a ceruleum engine starting for the first time after a time in cold dormancy---right to the larboard deck. Those assembled are blown back. "Fuck ye," Idan growls. "I'm th' bloody daughter o' Lluan, an' I'll no' have ye slackin' on me ship." She stalks forward, her wet silks dragging on the dock below.

Seran reaches for her, tries to gather her up in his arms, but she pulls away- worse, the water, the travel, the constant blasts of aether- the First-woven slip of clothing has taken its all. It flakes away in his grasp, and Idan proceeds aboard the ship in the nude, though her fury doesn't seem to pause- to abate, even for a moment. Seran looks around confusedly, following after Idanwyn, barking orders at the sailors, who scramble in their wake.

She strides through the ship, wilting foreign flowers in her hair leaving a path behind her; Seran's tread grinds their sweet petals into the planks. She takes the ceremonial captain's place when a ship is docked, right at the wheel, naked as the moon and just as imperious. "Weall? I've gone tae another world an' come back alive. I've brought guests what'll speak me proof. If Nixie is truly th' legacy o' th' Heavensaxe, then let it cleave a path back tae tha' world, an' many others." Her skin is pebbled with goosebumps, but only Seran can see that, as she knows. "I'll no' be shamed by ye fer no' bein' a Marauder; th' blood o' Lluan th' Depth Charge runs t'rough me, an' I'll bring all o' ye tae adventure an' plunder beyond yer wildest dreams...Llymlaen's teats, perhaps those same dreams'll guide us. Stand wi' me, or mutiny now, lads an' lasses. This is how I'll meet ye!" She holds up the copper knife in her left hand, her aetheric tattoo surging; she looks for all the world like some primal goddess, naked and wearing a silver headdress adorned with the white feathers of a distant bird, wilting flowers in her hair, a true sort of knight behind her.

#nixie ffxiv #idanwyn lluanswys #seran lancier #my writing #friend writing #in which i deeply enjoy playing a Sea Wolf as a tribal Viking sort #this is actually a huge turning point for Idanwyn #also in which i wear a bikini so as to not actually look naked to innocent passersby