I didn't miss anything, right gamers?
I started FFXIV because I thought to myself, “Goodness, Pixel, even though you’ve heard it’s a wonderful game with a lovely storyline and fantastic characters- well, surely you won’t be obsessed! That would be Silly”, but 150 hours later I AM obsessed and I have a very clear favorite character 😔😔
new country, new fit !!
the wooden dock extending outwards to falcon's nest seems worn. the wooden boards let out a quiet sigh with each step, low enough to almost go unnoticed and be swallowed by the wind. she pauses at the end of the pier to look down: a vast and almost endless fall awaits. somewhere, past the great expanse of a greyed sunrise and the glittering pieces of snow, is falcon's nest.
theldra is early; there is a chance alphinaud has only just woken and already she is prepared to depart. a bag, filled with the most basic necessities, is hefted on her shoulder. her fingers tap against it.
she tries to picture dravania but the images are no more than the faded and washed out sketches from text books. ysayle had said it was lovely. more alive than foundation and coerthas. would it be like the cloud sky?
the subtle click of metallic footsteps draws her thoughts elsewhere. not alphinaud. not ysayle. she peers over her shoulder at the dragoon.
" you are early. " she frowns. " ysayle and alphinaud are not yet here. you might find a means of passing time for the next hour. "
drk60 — absolution
perhaps, in some corner of her heart, she knew it could only end like this. rielle steps forward and tells ystride that she will pray for her one last time, that she might find peace in halone’s halls. grudgingly, sidurgu readies his sword once more, and rielle begins to administer the last rites to her mother. as the blade meets her neck, ystride looks to her daughter, and for a moment, the hatred which consumed her is nowhere to be seen...
not me heavily considering making an alt in FFXIV already...........
meme. / accepting !!
@stcrmscngs said : if you won’t protect yourself, i will. (from Vel. OOPS)
it's a solemn promise. these ties that bound them together have grown ever stronger with time, be it apart or together, facing the horrors of the world a daunting task that must be taken for the greater good, for the peace they strive for, for the peace she strove for. // grief's grip remained at his side, bitter reminder of failures, of those he's lost, of those he must let go of to pave the way to a brighter future : an idealized world in her vision, an idealized world that honors her. her sacrifice. her tireless work to maintain the peace of this broken realm, no matter how fractured it may be !! // reassuring himself of his mission, of the purpose, losing a sense of self to a degree. solo missions. solo combat. separated. time to think, time to feel, time to drown in yet another bottle that dulled his senses. camaraderie meant to be an afterthought, foregone briefly to battle these deeply rooted sentiments he's yet to fully grasp, proven impossible by bonafide declaration of protection.
❛ protect me ? ❜ good intentions laced behind every word, every syllable, an astonishing devotion that sought to protect what he considered worth protecting. whether there is honor or shame in being considered such, thancred smiles. perchance melancholic, accompanied by furrowed brows & hesitant movement ( has he truly ever been so still, so stupefied at another's words ? ), though it is an accepted gesture, to make it evident is to tell the truth. to tell the truth is to further concern dear comrade friend of turmoil that goes on within. albeit this battle is his alone, the warrior of light truly shines as a beacon of hope to all who are graced by his presence, by his mere name. having absolute faith in velkyn is one of thancred's best qualities. ❛ i certainly won't begin to doubt your abilities to protect others, you're a fierce ally & an even more fierce opponent. ❜ shrug of the shoulders, quiet exhale as he shakes his head, ❛ but believe me, there are others far more worth protecting than i. i can handle myself, you have no cause to worry over my safety. i promise. ❜
|| Post 3.0 spoilers up to patch 3.3, post the quest “An End to the Song”; FFXIV.
Silence pierced by heavy breathing. Two in tandem, though different in measure of beats. Exhaustion wore at the healer beside the presently unconscious Azure Dragoon, one Estinien Wyrmblood, though she pushed through it. She had to make sure. She had to ensure. Fear mixed with guilt mixed with sorrow mixed with misplaced anger.
Finally, it had been enough.
Votza collapsed beside the bed into her makeshift nest, declining the cot offered by the staff, citing that many others needed it other than herself, thank you kindly. She had pulled white hair back into a messy ponytail to keep it from getting in the way, and now she let it free. It’d grown in the months that it took, half a year, if she recalled faintly. The dragoness should cut it.
She flopped unceremoniously on the stone floor as if it were a feather bed. Within minutes of her head hitting the at least comfortable pillow did Votza fall fast asleep. To better ensure not only his safety, but to be awoken should something be amiss.
It would be hours later when Estinien woke with a troubled gasp, sitting up in pain and agony as he tried to piece together where he was. The mattress ‘neath his hand was firm, the cloth sterile white despite the small scarlet of red from where blood had seeped slightly from his mouth. The infirmary. He recognised it now. Cool, dark eyes cast about the room, studying it intently. The tremours from Nidhogg’s possession made his hand shake, and he curled it to prevent any sign of weakness. Though the wyrm was slain – he couldn’t remember who had done the deed or how – his guard would not lower.
The sound of a small, sleepy moan caught his attention, and through his travels with Votza he recognised it immediately. He leaned over to peer down with a small scoff. Of course she’d be here, Estinien thought. For a moment, a heartbeat, he debated. Then he carefully shifted his way out of bed so he could pick her up ( how heavy – though if he breathed a word about it she’d pull his ear ) and tuck her into bed with him.
With a weary sigh the Azure Dragoon felt himself relax. If only a moment. A heartbeat. The way she’d clung to him upon the transference from the floor to the bed made him feel a bit smug. Bitter, but smug. Seems I win this, he thought to himself; though the words were of hollow comfort, given what had transpired.
Though, the thoughts that came forth again, he would put aside to examine later. A red blooded man he may be, such thoughts as these were not common. Estinien wondered if it may be lingering traces of Nidhogg still, and ultimately reached the conclusion that he didn’t care – at least, not for the moment.
“Not m’puddin’.” The dragoness mumbled as she burrowed her face into his shirt, breaking the contemplative silence. There was silence still, and then the Elezen had to laugh a bit, patting her hair some.
“I wouldn’t dream of touching it, tiny dragon.” He said in a hoarse voice. Soft, almost inaudible.
Dawn would come, lighting the room and the sun’s first touch of the day would find Estinien watching it rise. Though once the healers and chirurgeons came in for their morning tasks they would find that the Azure Dragoon was once more asleep, with a sleeping Votza tucked into a fierce, yet protective hold.
REUNION IS A COMPLICATED MATTER. though some may envision it as anything but somer, a moment of pure elation where the heart may beat & skip, caught in its own exhilaration that all prior feelings of sorrow are no more, it's not as simple as that. to return to the old is impossible, a dishonest request that discards the present & beckons a honeyed time where all is believed to be simpler, but it wasn't, it wasn't, it's a specific view of the past. who thancred waters was in the past is different from who he is now. this reunion shall serve as a harrowing reminder of how much time has truly passed without them.
❛ come now, ❜ even so, the impervious mask shall not falter amidst these circumstances, no matter how dreary. so long as there is still a sliver of hope, he shall strive to be similar to the past, the same cheeky thancred whose lips could curve into a smile with ease, whose brows could raise & fool as if it were an acquired aptitude. ❛ is that any way to look upon an old friend ? you look almost like you've seen a ghost. or am i mistaken ? ❜
starter. / @stcrmscngs
I just started Heavensward and boy the sudden change of voice actors is really throwing me for a loop
(Alphinaud) "The Ascians dragged us to hell, my silent friend. But we're going even deeper!"
(Warrior of Light) "Alphinaud...I'm already a demon."
Original cover for reference:
I wanted to give Alphinaud a mask too but then this happened when I tried
umm...cheesed to meet you? ( tag drop )
Serafina wonders if she’ll ever fully accept the idea of him loving her.
Her mother would often cup her cheeks as a child and proclaim wholeheartedly how no man would be good enough for her. Now that she’s older, she has a mind to think that the woman had said that in part to keep her from venturing beyond her warm yet suffocating embrace. But still she dared to, and for all she’s both suffered and achieved Serafina could have never dreamed to be where she is right now, nestled in the strong arms of a man who was good enough for her, if not better.
Though he’s beyond her expectations he still had his flaws: working long hours into the night and throwing himself into life-threatening situations seemingly without a smidgen of concern for his own well being--nor the collateral damage it could cause to those who depended on him. It exasperates her, Lucia, Estinien--and the rest of who cared for him beyond the seat he occupied as Lord Commander.
Odd as it is, his flaws are partly responsible for what drew her to him on a personal level, given that his station had initially imposed an air of professionalism between them. But even then on their first meeting in the Intercessory she sensed his interest in her by the way his eyes fixated on her and her only, as if everyone and everything else in the room had dissipated--and his eyes are the same even now, a blue akin to fresh, moving rivers freed from their ice. Serafina was not unaccustomed to having eyes on her but with him it’s different, because she wants him to keep looking.
“Is there something on my face?” The edge of his mouth curves in a smile as her hand rests against the side of his handsomely-angled face, thumb against his cheekbone.
“...I daresay your eyelashes are longer than mine.” She breathes a giggle as her index finger brushes against the outer corner of his eyelid.
“That’s saying something, you know. The other children always used to tease me for the same thing.”
“I think it would’ve been an adorable sight,” He chuckles, the arm behind her back shifting her closer against his bare chest.
“Oh not you too.” She pouts, chin propped atop his sternum, forearms resting against his torso.
“Everyone calls me that. I’m getting rather sick of it.” Her other titles--the ones she actually sweat and bled to earn--were a welcome reprieve from the terms of endearment with which she’d endured on a day to day basis. Part of it was that, more often than not, such sweet words served to underestimate her. Lately Serafina has faced more than enough doubt on her own, and she has had more than her far share of detractors for reasons that held more weight than a heart-shaped face and a button nose.
“I say it because I mean it.” His lips touch her forehead, and his smile feels softer on her skin.
“And besides, knowing you now has given me the privilege of seeing your other fine qualities.” Her ears perked slightly. Ironic how just a few seconds ago she denounced a certain kind of praise--but this is Aymeric’s praise, and if she were to judge based on everything that has happened so far, it’s bound to be different in the best kind of way.
“Your passion. How you’re driven to do what is needed, for the good of others...” Lovingly his fingers smooth out the loose, long waves of her ash-pink hair, and she bobs her head backwards into his touch.
“Your optimism--it uplifts everyone around you, and it serves you well in raising morale.” Radiant, he thinks, like sunlight that cascaded in beams through the glass of tall cathedral windows.
“...and your smile.” She rolls her eyes playfully at how he couldn’t go without being outright hopeless--but hopeless and hopeful is just what they are. Why they’re together, and why all of Ishgard as they know it rests their hopes and dreams on their shoulders, which they held stalwart before the masses, which they only allowed to falter before each other.
“Not a night passes where it doesn’t cross my mind.” Aymeric’s voice lowers for only her to hear, though she’s certain there’s no one else in the room to begin with--except possibly his sour-faced cat.
“Somehow it never fails to cease the cold nights.”
“Like a charm, then?” Her eyes shut as her ear pressed against his heart.
“To guarantee you a good night’s sleep?”
“Certainly.” He keeps his smile just as he keeps his gaze so lovingly glued to her, admiring the subtle allure of how her eyes shone brighter with how her visage shielded the candlelight from where it flickered on the nightstand.
“A good luck charm.” She puffs, through her nose, as a creeping weight drags her eyes downwards.
“...I’m glad I could do it for someone.” He frowns at the telltale sign of her self-deprecation.
“You are doing more than you give yourself credit for.” Sensing her shoulder blades tense, he shifted in his hand in soothing circles over the slope of her back.
“None of this can be achieved in a day. But know you were wronged. It wasn’t your doing, nor was there anything you could have done.” She bit her lip and nuzzled further into the tight heat of his chest. She hated how the night at the banquet still has its hold on her, and even with how she was slowly but surely beginning to reclaim her resolve it still hung over her like a foreboding moon. “...And yet your found your footing, and even gave your hand in aid to those around you--complete strangers whom you knew nothing of.” He spoke of those in the Foundation, in the Pillars, in the Brume--those who had their hearts touched by an outsider, by the Warrior of Light, by Serafina.
As the circling motion of his palm eased upwards, his fingers crowned at the back of her neck, tresses of her mane caught in-between, goading her to meet his eyes. Still transfixed as ever, and now he sought the same from her; thankfully, he wasn’t left waiting for long, the longing in her gaze doubled by how her legs were still caught around his waist.
“...I could go on.” He whispers, his breath hot on the underside of her chin. His lips are so tantalizingly close to her neck that she’s sure he could feel her swallow in anticipation.
She closes her eyes and breathes him in.
“I didn’t tell you to stop.”
WHISPERS && CLAMORS, those that speak of idle gossip while others gaze over their shoulder to catch a second glance, she is not naive to think they do not stare. Rumor of the new ward has enraptured each social group, by now it is a wildfire spreading outwards. Some speak of this fabled Eikon Slayer while others simply laugh, it is the fall of nobility. Though her stance does not waver, it is confident but relaxed, no longer appeasing those that pull upon her strings in the shadows. Still, this must be awkward as she does not speak merely inhaling the crisp air that fills her lungs, allowing the frost to gather where it had all but melted away.
“After all this time, I still cannot grow used to this damned cold” her whine sounds childish, but then laughter emerges from her crimson lips as she keeps close, never straying too far behind. It is far too dangerous, while The Pillars are viewed as the essence of the higher houses, she is no stranger to their cunning methods. Even in the public eye, she speaks cleverly to not attract attention to themselves. Yet, every so often there is an inkling of sincerity in the way she speaks, as if to convey she has missed this land - a place she once called home.
“Everything still remains the same, doesn’t it?” the tinge of melancholy that fills her voice as she looks up, the intimidating nature of the Vault, statues of champions from yore, it is as if she had never left. “Halone in her glory, cold that bleeds into everything - I dare say, it’s comforting” in times of such confusion, Sayuri found it strange to feel at ease when she knew to be cautious of everything that was threatening to consume them whole.
“ — Ah, don’t let my words of nostalgia deter us from our obligations. I suppose in truth, I missed Ishgard && her beauty more than I cared to admit”
@aprisatm // HAURCHEFANT // starter call.
I used to hate aggressively positive/optimistic stories, and I never understood why, but now I get it. Often, at least in the past and in my experience, these stories were aggressively optimistic in ways that were not just unrealistic, but the entire scenario in which they were placed either didn’t call for that level of optimism or downplayed dramatically the actual suffering that was happening.
a faux positivity, or a “just be happy” thing, which I’m sure many people are familiar with and fucking tired of on this site
but man ... when you get stories that don’t at all shy away from loss, and tragedy, and outright suffering, but still follow that through line of maintaining hope in a realistic measure of genuine love and compassion and empathy......
really socks you right in the chest, repeatedly
good morning, moghome
❝ ysayle, tell me -- ❞ the warrior’s voice is soft as she sits beside the other, the two having a moment of respite away from their male traveling companions. she fiddles with the ends of pink hair, one of her tells that she’s nervous, yet only a tell that she gives to those she lets her guard down around.
❝ what all do you feel of shiva? is it like she’s speaking to you? ❞ she had so many questions, but she tried to keep it minimal. ❝ can you feel her love? ❞
@levingale: ( GRAZE ) grazing mine’s shoulders with their fingers.
Come evening, the glow of the Foundation dimly lights the way to those who stagger about. She is enraptured by the sight of the clear skies, even in the night Ishgard always seems shrouded in the dim fog that the snow brings. Gazing outward, she mouths her astonishment before shaking her head softly, “Sorry, I was distracted” reaching into the confines of her robe the Astrologian then takes something from within. A small vial full of potent green mixture, her instructions are clear as she speaks, “Once a day, this will help to offset any signs of infections” her cheerful nature does not waver even when speaking of the most mundane things.
Yet, she studies the other woman in front of her curious about such an attire, “You were able to cross the Steps of Faith, are you a merchant by chance?” she did not look like the typical young noble, nor a simple spice trader. Yet, Sayuri would not press the matter as her hands rested upon her lap, it was her duty to help the injured or ill that was all she cared for.
“Well, whoever you are I am sure you will enjoy your stay here, um that’s if you don’t get hurt anymore!” her laughter bouncing as she could not help but to jest, but she simply then introduced herself. “Forgive me, I am called Sayuri - should you wounds worsen, I can be found at the Astrologicum. I need to leave though, a clear night like this shouldn’t be squandered!” as she attempted to pass by, the sudden brush of their shoulders caused her to tense until she relaxed.
A soft airy laugh escaping her warm lips, the puff of smoke from the cool nights air could be seen as she then stopped within her tracks. Was it loneliness? She was not sure, but this tundra always brought out the worst of despair within her. Swallowing the lump within her throat, she stumbled but was able to speak.
“U-um, hey! Would you like to come see the stars with me?” prophecy foretold within the skies, how the Geomancers would laugh && taunt, soothsayer! “I know it sounds asinine, but we believe that the stars foretell the future && fate itself, perhaps I can read yours?” there was a fear this could be laughed at as a mere parlor trick, but her resilience to her work attested she did not see it as something trivial only that she wished to share. Rubbing her neck, she hoped it did not come off as strange or even off putting as the young hyur woman cleared her throat.
“Promise, it’ll be fun!”
mixed actions. || accepting.