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ink-dreams-ffxiv · 3 months ago

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I use this all the time in RP and story writing. Like using mooring points for small ships/pleasure craft in the waters of the Mists since it is a harbor, as well as more docks than the single one we use to leave back to Limsa. My main and her sister also are from a set of 3 islands on the edge of the Ruby Sea, it takes a day and a half from the closest island to reach Onokoro for instance. But those islands wouldn't show on the Game Map for the Ruby Sea.

Another character I have is from the Deep Fog Fens as a large swamp, much like the Bayou of the South. I know many other people who also have the same ideas for their origins especially, and at least a couple that also have places similar to Buscarrons in other parts of the Shroud. Let your imagination flow!

The Game World is an Abstract

Various dungeons, trials, and instances, take place in regions of zones we cannot otherwise reach. We can see other parts of the world, continuations of those zones, that go off the walkable/flyable map. We only really get parts of the capital cities, more districts and buildings often visible but inaccessible. New areas get introduced all the time, such as Paglth'an in Thanalan--much of which we can't get to, only see as we fly over its golden fields.

But even in the places we can travel physically, those areas are...compressed. Made viable to move for game play purposes. It would be impossible to show the true scale of most regions, most towns, even many buildings; not only would that be a ton of dev time and resources the game cannot budget for, but it would make getting place to place extremely tedious for players.

(They tried to a degree in 1.x, but it was also a lot of "identical tiles duplicated and turned" to give the impression of massive world areas--which also made it hell to navigate in more ways than one)

A good example is the Steps of Faith, the bridges spanning the roiling abyss between mountains and foothills, Ishgard's link from its peak to the rest of Coerthas.

Now that we can fly on Coerthas, overworld, the Steps of Faith look like this:

A very narrow bridge. Not terribly impressive--nor very practical, as it would be impossible to get multiple supply and trade carts in and out (their strict isolation was only really during the most recent Archbishop's nonsense in the last 20-odd years, hence the other city-states trying to get them back into the Alliance), nor march an army across. This is meant to connect an entire city to the world.

In the ARR Steps of Faith instance--reworked as a solo duty where the WoL fights alongside the Scions and various adventurers as well as Ishgardians--the bridges are massive, capable of fielding combat units as well as the giant siege dragon Vishap.

And of course, the great battle on the Final Steps of Faith in Heavensward's patches, where two great wyrms of the First Brood are on the bridges, as well as various other dragons, Ishgard's defenders, and our own final battle against Nidhogg.

In both versions of the Steps of Faith story instances, there are statues, towers, and defenses that simply aren't visible in the overworld versions.

So! Remember: the setting is MUCH larger and far more detailed than can be seen in the maps we have access to as players. The game world is a compressed abstract, travel times reduced for story as well as practical play reasons, and you have plenty of room in your writing and roleplay to expand on and add details to it as needed!

#final fantasy xiv #reblog

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ink-dreams-ffxiv · 3 months ago

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The Schoolteacher

(Desertwalkers AU; foul language, nasty attitudes, & violence.)

Gareth Leawood had a shit week and it was all that fucking school teacher's fault.

Like so many others, he had come to Stonewood for the opportunities presented by Baelsar's consortium—except that dried up due to another investor and the Black Iron Wolf’s brief tangle with the Striker siblings.

Still, plenty of work for an honest man to do, enough pay to keep a small place Gareth could stick his mousy little wife. She wasn’t his first pick, but her cousin was spoken for and her uncle had paid well. She kept the place clean, his clothes darned, and hot meals ready for him, even when he came home late after a few drinks at the Saltlick.

Rather, she had done all that.

Fucking bitch of a school teacher had to stick her pert little nose where it didn't belong.

Aside from those rumors of a tussle with Baelsar, Gareth hadn't paid the Strikers much mind. The brother worked in the land office, handling half the town's bureaucracy on behalf of the mayor. Gareth supposed Striker was better at it than the mayor's spoiled worthless son.

The sister turned heads when she walked down the dusty streets, but she never seemed to heed the attention. She taught her classes, volunteered at the multitude of local charities and events women seemed to spend all their free time on, and shared a small homestead with her brother.

Not that Striker could control her. She demonstrated that by strolling into the Saltlick once, a respectable lady like her, and the school teacher no less. She sat down, had exactly one drink, a polite conversation with the piano man, broke another man's finger, and then left again while her brother fumed.

If she belonged to Gareth, she would have learned better.

Then again, he thought he had his wife in hand, too. But that fucking Thavnairian witch had worked her wiles on more than a few folks.

While Gareth spent his days hard at work, and deserved to end those shifts with a few drinks and some entertainment at the Saltlick, his wife had snuck off to the school house to take lessons. She was supposed to use her meager sewing skills to earn extra cash. She always handed over her pay to Gareth, as she didn't know how to spend it properly, and what was hers was his, after all.

Her earnings had been short for a while, but he hadn't suspected her of lying when she claimed she had fewer jobs, or that clients weren’t able to pay. Times were tough all around, thanks to whatever laws trickled in from Tuliyollal and the godsdamned Dawnservant.

A few days ago, Gareth had come home drunk and weary. He ate the food left to warm in the oven and then passed out in bed, still dressed. The next morning he realized his wife hadn't just woken early as usual—she hadn't slept in the bed at all. She wasn't there.

It took time to piece it together, and only after speaking with another bitter fellow that had also found his wife and daughters gone, down to the city and back across the Salt.

It was the thrice-damned school teacher.

She had taught Gareth's wife gods only knew what, convinced her to save away money, pack a few belongings, and book passage east. To leave him, as if he hadn't taken care of her, put a roof over her head, bought the food she made to eat. He had never even hit her. Ungrateful mousy bitch.

Gareth and the other man, Ben Brown, decided someone needed to deal with this wife-stealing little witch. Her brother might even thank them, when he sure as fuck couldn't keep her in line.

He checked around to see who else might be disgruntled at the Strikers—that brother had made more than a few enemies himself, given his work with local land and water rights. But when Gareth laid out his plan, Cal Hotwell shook his head and stood.

"No thank you. Good luck."

"Y'ain't scared of Striker are ya?" Ben asked.

"Yeah," Cal admitted. "I worked for Baelsar when he tangled with ‘em before. Ain't doin’ it again. 'Sides, you're goin’ after Aeryn Striker—and out of the pair of 'em, she's the one you ought to be afraid of."

Gecko snorted. The Au Ra's scars had lent themselves to the moniker. "The woman can scarcely raise her voice when her students act up."

"They don't often," Cal said. He tipped his hat and left Gareth's house, navigating around a full trash bin. The place was a mess, but Gareth had no wife now to keep it.

Because of that damned school teacher.

"Well, we shouldn't need more than the three of us to handle that wench," Ben said. "Keep some other honest fellas from losing their women."

They agreed, then headed to the Saltlick to celebrate.

For most folks around town, Miss Striker was an affable woman with a smile and a kind word for everyone. Even Gaius Baelsar, and he had sent toughs to kidnap her in an attempt to strongarm her brother last year. That attempt had not gone as planned when the thugs, injuries treated, ended up trussed in the back of the Strikers' buckboard and brought to town by an unsurprised Zaine, who had returned home to find them in said condition.

Cal Hotwell had been one of those toughs, since then set to more honest work in the mines Minfilia Warde ran for her mother. After leaving Gareth Leawood's place, Hotwell had let the Sheriff know trouble was afoot, and to have the doc ready to treat three fools.

And so Deputy Dark Autumn waited inside a nearby store, nursing a cup of tea as she watched the school across the yard through a partly opened window. Miss Striker seemed busy with her older students and a picnic lunch they managed for the younger classmates, while young Tenwa won the duty of running food over to Zaine Striker at the clerk's office. Not uncommon for one of the students to do that.

Tenwa had been gone far too long for that errand, given how Miss Striker checked the time and frowned as the lunch hour wound to a close, the older students leading the younger in cleanup.

Dark watched as the three men ambled up the street, Leawood's hand on Tenwa's shoulder. She set down her cup.

Miss Striker's eyes narrowed. The children’s chatter and laughter faded as they looked at the rough men with their classmate, and then back to their teacher. She stood tall, arms crossed. "Is there a problem, gentlemen?"

"You could say that," Leawood said. "You're a bad influence, Miss Striker."

"The school board has confidence in me, as do my students' parents."

"We ain't talkin’ about the board, though I don't agree you ought to be teaching these kids the way you taught our wives."

She smiled, head slightly tilted. "Why should I teach them differently?"

Leawood’s hand tightened on the boy's shoulder. Tenwa squirmed "Maybe I don't agree with your teachings," Leawood said.

"You're welcome to bring your concerns to the board. Thank you for escorting my student. Tenwa, go inside with the others."

Tenwa tried to move forward, but Leawood held on. "We'll let him go, if you come with us."

Miss Striker's face was dangerously blase, but Dark didn't think Leawood had the brains to notice. "I have to teach afternoon classes. If you come back after the children are dismissed at three, we can discuss your own lessons then."

"Class is canceled," Ben Brown sneered. "Don't think you can use these kids as a shield from what you owe."

Miss Striker raised a brow. "Oh, you have it quite backwards. They're not protecting me." Her tone was rather frosty.

Dark frowned. She wasn't the most sensitive type, but there was an entire shift in the air itself as the Weave that suffused all life reacted to events in the schoolyard.

Reacted to Aeryn Striker.

"Ryne," Miss Striker said in her kind but firm teacher voice. "Take everyone inside. The older students are to divide the class into five groups, and each lead their little cohort in the afternoon's math lesson. Close the blinds, lock the door, and only open it for me."

The slight redhead nibbled her lip, and almost looked ready to jump into the fray next to her teacher. Her dark-haired friend, too; rumor had it she was apprenticed to the coven Ryne's father protected. The two girls exchanged a look, then escorted the others inside.

"Tenwa," Miss Striker said. "Go with them. I will join the class shortly."

The boy pulled away this time and dashed past her, but stopped at the door. "Miss Striker, you don't have your—"

"Inside, please, and follow Ryne's instruction until I return." She smiled, warm and sweet, for the child. He reluctantly stepped inside, and Gaia closed the door behind him. Dark couldn't hear it lock, but was certain the young woman had followed instructions.

For her part, the deputy was far more stealthy than anyone expected of a woman her size, and she took the opportunity to ease outside to stand just behind a pillar on the store’s shaded porch.

Miss Striker turned to the trio of men. "Walk away," she said, hands at her hips.

"Hear you're pretty good with a blade," the man known only as Gecko sneered. "But you don't got one now."

"Please." Miss Striker unhooked the pair of folded fans from her belt.

Leawood’s angry hand reached toward her. "Let's go talk somewhere—"

A snap, a flash, and Leawood cried out and stumbled back, his pants falling off his hips. His suspenders had been sliced by the razor-edge of one of the fans, his shirt and skin untouched.

"Leave," Striker said, voice cold and hard, the fans up in a ready position as she bounced on the balls of her feet.

"You uppity little bitch," Leawood snarled, grabbing his trousers. Brown hesitated—and then Gecko drew a firearm.

"You owe us," he snapped. The other men shouted. Dark leaped, already too late, toward the Au Ra as he pulled the trigger.

Reality warped, hot and electric, a shield of energy sizzling before Striker’s defensive fan. The bullet disintegrated. Striker flung the fan and electricity both. Gecko cried out and fell, his entire body jolted. The gun tumbled away, cut and warped.

Striker spun forward, her held fan collapsed into a solid piece she used to smack Brown in a half dozen places before he could react. She kicked out his knee, leaving him bruised and moaning on the ground.

She snatched the flung fan out of the air on its return arc, her own whirling motion ending with its deadly edge held to Leawood's throat. He froze, despite the knife in his own free hand.

He swallowed. "Th-the gun wasn't part of the plan." He glanced down at Gecko, groaning and slightly smoky on the ground. "We just…our wives left us and it's cuz you—"

He screamed as she left a long slice along each of his cheeks. "They left because of you," she spat as he dropped the knife and clutched his bleeding face. "I merely gave them the knowledge to make their choices and gather their means." She looked up with stormy gray eyes and met Dark's gaze.

If someone as inept as Dark sensed the weight and warp of Striker’s Weave manipulation, so could every sensitive in town.

Dark cleared her throat. "Think I can take it from here, ma'am."

Striker's face smoothed, though the storms in her eyes continued. "Thank you, Deputy. I do have class to teach." She stepped back from her combat ready position and snapped her fans closed to hang them on her belt. She took several deep breaths and fixed her long black hair. The sensation of imminent lightning faded as the teacher smoothed her blouse and skirt. "Perhaps you could also let my brother know there's naught to worry about."

Dark nodded. She whistled, loud and sharp, then leaned down to haul Brown and Gecko to their feet. Pipp and other nearby deputies would hear and come to help.

Miss Striker turned on her elegant booted heel and strode back to her school. She knocked in a specific rhythm and spoke through the door, which soon opened for her.

Not one student had peeked through the curtained windows, which did not open again until the deputies had the battered men out of sight.

The laughing children were dismissed promptly at three o'clock, as a few of Miss Striker's adult students arrived for their own lessons.

#final fantasy xiv #AU #Aeryn Striker #Autumnslance #weird wild west #amazing read

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ink-dreams-ffxiv · 4 months ago

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if you can't reblog, comment!

🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️🏳️‍⚧️

#Grandpa Hugs on request

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ink-dreams-ffxiv · 4 months ago

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very well written, and very much worth reading

Thank you for having a brain about Cahciua, genuinely. It's so disheartening to see the hateful her when imo she's actually one of the best moms we've seen in this game. it's refreshing to see a parent with actual flaws but she so clearly cares about Erenville and it's so obvious that she actually knows her son quite well from how they interact. That whole last section with her illustrates that best imo.

First I want to apologize for sitting on this ask, the past few days have been quite hectic for me. That said, thank you for this message I genuinely feel a little insane at times reading reactions to her. I'm going to spoiler this as it's very text heavy and there are images added in!

I agree completely about how nice it is seeing a parent with flaws when too often this game falls into the pitfall of either making mothers cartoonishly evil and selfish or otherwise just the embodiment of the Victorian ideal of mother's being the "guardian angel" of the home (i.e. perfect, maternal, ever giving saints.) To me Erenville and Cahciua were really the heart of Dawntrail and emotionally impacted me the most and the reason for that is just how real and complicated their relationship was. You are completely right as well about how much she cared for him, and I know not everyone takes the time to read npc dialogue between quests but multiple people mentioned just how much Cahciua talked about him, the entire reason she did everything she did was in the slim chance she would be able to see him again and she had the faith he could against all odds make it back to her. When you go back and speak to Geode he literally says this

Once again, your completely right that she knows her son best and it's all in how they interact. Even in the final scene when she says she has a brilliant idea, and even though he initially brushes her off, what ends up happening? You see him for once in that entire zone come out of his sulking, actually interact with us and finally break out of his up til then, self induced isolation to ask us to come along. He realizes he needs his friends to help support him to finally confront that which he and Cahciua had been putting off the entire time. She knew him well enough to know he needed to be distracted in order to pull himself out of his head. Even though she may not have said things perfectly, who could? It was a fucked situation that everyone was doing their best to navigate. Really put yourself into her position of having to explain to your child that you are long dead, for the website that jokes about not even being able to order in a restaurant, coming up with the perfect words here seems a tall order. Furthermore we have to remember this isn't the real Cahciua we're even talking to, this is an amalgamation of her memories. We have no idea how the real Cahciua would have acted or what she would have said. I also see the idea that "she abandoned him" thrown around a lot and I think you're losing the forest for the trees here. Just because Erenville felt she abandoned him doesn't mean she really did. Whenever we engage with Vieran societies in game we have to set aside our ideas of a nuclear family, they do not ascribe to them. They form close knit, matriarchal societies that live communally. Due to in game limitations they can't really show us this but I'm sure he had Aunts, Grandmas (probably multiple due to vieran aging), other family members and close friends (Iyaate being one) that helped look after him. At this point I'm also going to bring up that we all agree parents shouldn't have to completely rid themselves of wants/desires/dreams and we're seeing this in action, a mother holding onto her dreams and she is being treated so unfairly. It's really insane how quickly people will accidentally push very traditional gender essentialist lines of thinking without realizing it (her place is in the home where she should stay.) If she had been a father leaving her child in the care of family while taking trips (keep in mind we have no idea how many times she did this or how long she was gone btw) would you be as upset?

All that said, I will defend Cahciua till my dying breath (even though, I myself have mixed feelings on her due to my own complicated relationship with my mother) because the things this fandom and the world at large let characters perceived as masculine do while woobifying and come up with a million reasons why what they did was right and moral actually and they were justified vs feminine characters is crazy. Originally I had made a point of comparing Emet Selch who gets sympathy from the majority of the fandom despite his deeds but @eriyu made a great point that Thancred and Ryne are a much more apt comparison point. Thancred does neglect Ryne’s emotional needs throughout Shadowbringers and this causes incredible damage to her emotionally and her sense of self esteem yet he’s beloved as a father and everyone accepts him for his faults. Thancred got the chance to learn and grow and make amends after being confronted with how detrimental his behavior was, Cahciua did not. Not only due to her early death, but also because at this point she’s a computer generated version of herself. (I could also throw Fourchenalt in here as another father who largely neglected his own children (and even abandoned them, during an apocalypse no less!!!) and isn’t subject to the same scrutiny.) It's just very disheartening to see her get little support and of what there is, most of it is over-sexualization.

I'll end all this by inserting some of my favorite comments from this reddit thread that really helped me understand her and their relationship better.

Editing in to add, in case this gets lost; the entire point I’m making is that Cahciua wasn’t a perfect parent because there is literally no such thing as one. She’s human and I love that they depicted her as such, flaws and all and humans fuck their children up. Even the most well intentioned parent will fuck their children up in some way because they’re human, it’s inevitable. The thesis of this is that it’s unfair she gets unjustly misaligned for simply doing what every parent who has ever existed has done in some way, had their own issues that gave their children issues.

#cahciua #fussy bun #erenville

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