#content ✎ final fantasy xiv

[unrealization]

Violette puts a red flower in ashlynn's hair ♥ "It matches your eyes!"

@styxisms | Unprompted

Try as she might, she still didn't like it when anyone touched her. Violette had pushed that boundary several times in the past, and she'd more or less accepted that this was how she was. The Miqo'te's hand was always gentle. She knew rationally that there was no harm in it. But her body wanted to react. To flinch away. She fought that feeling. Embraced it. A brief moment of extreme discomfort, that gave way to a warm feeling in her heart.

She relaxed, a soft smile spreading across her face. Maybe tomorrow, the world would hang in the balance. Maybe she would have to bloody her sword for the greater good.

Not today. Today she was alive, sharing a moment with her first friend. Violette, whose small gestures and simple kindness had saved her heart again and again. For now, everything was okay and life was worth living.

"We'll have to find one that matches yours, Vi. I might need your help, though."

[unrealization]

@brightblessed

Sparks flew as steel met steel. An ear-splitting screech rang out as the blade tore into the magitek plate. The Prince allowed the weight of his weapon to pass through his foe. He took a few steps, and that’s all it took. He allowed the momentum he’d built up to turn his body, bringing his scythe down into the exposed machinery. The towering machine fell and the soldiers who had been standing behind it seemed to freeze in place.

The Prince hated the look in their eyes. All these men who had felt like gods when they were trampling the weak were reduced to cornered beasts. Absolute terror mixed with despair. Their hearts knew they were dead before their bodies did. Cowards. Their pathetic gaze ignited an old hatred in him, and with a single stroke he took all their lives. No fight left. It was always so easy. He felt a pining in his heart. The thrill of the hunt. The joy of combat. The feeling of connection when his blade clashed with a worthy opponent’s. A simple flick of his wrist was all it took to lay his enemies low now. He would never feel that again because of Garlemald. They had taken his one and only. He would never die because of Garlemald. They had made him that way. All he had now was hate. Hate for the ivory standard. Hate for the ones who burned his dreamed-of future to the ground. Hatred of the life he’d been cursed with.

He heard approaching footsteps. He quickly turned to face his potential opponent. They didn’t brandish steel. In fact, it was a child. One of the people the Garlean soldiers had been messing with? The child looked up at the prince, fear in his eyes. He dropped to his knees, sobbing.

“Th-Thank you! Thank you!”

The Prince turned his back. He had no idea how to respond to such a proclamation. He’d only done what he did because he hated the people he killed. It wasn’t particularly hard to do. He didn’t do it to save people. He did it because he wanted to kill them. The ones who had taken everything from him.

Of course, he couldn’t remember exactly what they had taken. Or what nation he was the Prince of. Only that pining remained. The feeling of a cold absence in his heart. With a wave of his hand, he opened a voidgate and the world faded into silence.

He drifted for some time. Allowing his Avatar to pull his body along wherever it wished. He had no idea how long this lasted, but before long he felt the air around him again. A familiar chill to it. Garlemald. Home. He heard a nearby battle. Gunfire and the clash of blades. He headed toward the chaos. He spotted a crowd  of people in black armor. Magitek armor. So many. He leapt into the air, wrapping his body in his avatar’s aether. He tore open a voidgate and passed through. He emerged on the other side immediately, now above the crowd.

He brought his scythe down on on them, crashing like a meteor and causing an explosion of aether. No challenge. Even this many.

He ripped his blade from the earth, his burning eyes beholding the carnage he’d just wrought. Good riddance.

His gaze settled on one man. He wasn’t dressed like a Garlean, but he was still holding a sword. The Prince rose, his aether blazing around him. Another man approached the swordsman. He wore a familiar uniform. He couldn’t comprehend the words shared between the men. He rushed forward to cut down the Garlean. Just one more for the pile. Another victim in his one-man war.

[unrealization]

@styxisms liked for a starter!

The driving rain dampened the sounds of combat. Not long ago, this place had been chaos. The Garlean war machine had moved on, leaving so many bodies their wake. He'd seen many of them, some wearing the ivory standard and so many more who weren't. Thankfully, he'd seen precious few civilians, but that was far from usual.

J'yura listened closely as he walked, trying to ignore the distant explosions and the sound of his boots in the mud. He had to keep an ear out for voices. To find anyone who was still alive in this place. Naturally, a lone medicus was an easy target for a potential ambush, so he had one of his squadmates on overwatch. The rest of his team was setting up a base camp nearby.

His linkpearl chimed.

"Sigma. Movement. 150 yalms west."

He raised a hand as a quiet acknowledgement of the report. He turned and started heading in the indicated direction.

Ala Mhigo had been a pretty nasty place before imperial occupation from what he'd heard, but more so than any other commander he'd ever followed, J'yura simply couldn't understand the prince's motivation. Resistance was sparse at best, and yet he continually felt the need to use overwhelming force. It was as though his aim was to waste his subject's lives.

He passed another smattering of bodies, all clothed in resistance colors. He'd heard lord Zenos himself had been present at this battle. Had this been his doing? He continued to follow his squadmate's directions until he saw something that made him stop dead in his tracks.

A miquo'te woman, not dressed in the colors of the resistance. Still, she'd seemingly been cut down all the same. There was still some distance between them, but from where J'yura was standing the most distinct thing about her was her hair. It was bright pink, its stark contrast against the mud making her seem to shine against the brutal backdrop of the battlefield. His breath caught in his throat. She looked like...

He touched his linkpearl.

"Tau. Report. How far am I from the subject... And which direction."

His voice was audibly shaking. It wasn't her. It couldn't be, but her presence in his mind felt so real.

Before Tau could answer he saw it. The miqo'te girl moved ever so slightly. She was still breathing. His reflexes took over. He sprinted through the mud to her side, dropping to his knees and sliding a bit when he landed. The mud around her was dyed red. He had moments before she bled out. He didn't stop to consider whether she was friend or foe.

"Hold on! I've got you. Don't try to get up!"

He drew his wand from his belt, and whispered an incantation. A burst of healing light answered his call. It should be, he hoped, enough to stabilize so he could close the wound. He couldn't see it as she was laying facedown in the mud.

"I'm going to turn you over, okay? I need to see the wound. Please don't fight me."

He placed a hand on her shoulder and carefully turned her over onto her back. A deep cut quickly showed itself, from her shoulder and down across her torso. Whoever had given her this injury had deliberately left her to bleed out.

"It will be okay."

The same thing he says every time. Sometimes he's telling the truth. Sometimes he's even right. He wasn't sure yet.

[unrealization]

Ashlynn had long forgotten how to rest. Even before she took on her current role as the Warrior of Light she would usually stay active until her body gave out and she had no choice but to sleep. It was safer to keep moving, and she couldn't stand being alone with her thoughts for too long. Even after everything that happened in the First, she found herself seeking any odd job she could at Mor Dhona just to stay busy.

She noticed that G'raha Tia was doing much the same. In fact, she had seen him working late into the night the previous day. As she busied herself with her tasks she noticed that the Miqo'te had begun to waver a bit. She assumed he, as a smart person, would take the hint and rest.

When she returned from delivering a crate to a dig site outside the outpost, she spotted G'raha Tia lying facedown on the ground. The rational part of her knew that he had simply collapsed from exhaustion, but she felt a panic rise from inside her anyway. She rushed to his side.

"G'raha! Please, wake up!"

He'd been overworking himself since he returned to the Source. It made her worry, which led to her speaking a bit more sternly than she intended.

"You're not connected to the tower anymore. You have to rest!"

She realized she wasn't taking her own advice, but she quickly dismissed that thought. It was different when she did it.

@styxisms

[unrealization]

It was an interesting predicament Senah found herself in. For most of her life, she had struggled. Just barely managing to keep herself afloat for long enough to get to the next job. In her old life, she'd been held up by others. More recently she only had herself to rely on. It suited her fine. Even if she had to sleep outside when gil wasn't coming in. Even if she had to settle for a meager meal for a day or two. It was better than the alternative. She was free.

More recently, she'd achieved something she'd never truly experienced before. Stability. True independence. She consistently had a roof over her head. She had enough money to be sure she could eat for a week, if not a bit more. The struggle was tapering off, and she had seemingly hit a plateau.

Her first reaction, naturally, was spite. She imagined Silent Gull and the rest still roughing it in some hole somewhere and it made a smile cross her face. After that was a sense of accomplishment. She'd risen far above her station with only her own work. She'd thought that would be all she'd need to be content.

But then the boredom started setting in. She'd never expected it, and yet it was there.

Oh, well. She was definitely really good at her job, so why not earn some extra spending money? That was what led her to accept this job in the first place. She wasn't exactly thrilled about it being a two-person job. She usually took solo jobs from people who needed healers or groups of at least four. The more people between her and the enemy, the more she could focus on keeping her team breathing.

But the money was good, and so was she. It would be fine.

Upon meeting her cohort, she quickly gave into her instincts and sized him up. He looked capable enough, and he had to be pretty strong to handle such a ridiculously oversized weapon. His conduct was glib, but that was preferable to one of the usual bright-eyed adventurers who thought she was going to be their best friend after working a simple job.

"I'm Senah."

She bowed her head slightly, more an acknowledgement of his greeting than a more polite bow. In fact, it probably looked more like a nod than a bow.

"No need to wait up. Let's get out there and make some gil."

@unrealization (Senah)

It left him in a constant state of anxiety. He kept his eyes downcast. The adventurer's guild accepted his false name. Most of those in charge likely knew who he really was. He suspected they either believed in his innocence or didn't care about his alleged crimes. Or maybe they didn't recognize him at all. He was lucky to blend in, at least. Still, he could feel the eyes of Mother Miounne on him even as he walked away.

This was the safest town for him. It was the easiest place for him to escape back to Ishgard. Ul'Dah was too dangerous. Limsa could go either way. But even deep in the forest, he still felt like everyone was staring.

Part of him wanted the Crystal Braves to find him so he could take out his anger on them. But another part feared he would be captured and give up information that would endanger the people that fled with him. He sat down at the table he was supposed to meet the other person doing this job with. He took a drink from his cup. Just water. He didn't want to take risks.

He wasn't as experienced with a sword as he had been with magic. Fray's lessons were doing him favors, but nothing beat actual combat. His hands still ached from the flames. He would use the pain as strength.

Finally, someone approached the table. A Miqo'te with a staff. This must be his healer. Amber eyes size her up. Even if she didn't look like much, he knew better than to write off a mage. He could already sense the aether around her, even faintly. Mages already seemed to feel a certain way. Or maybe that was just in his head.

"They were adamant that this was at least a two-man job." Roi said quietly. "I take it you're the healer." They had suspected he would need one. It looks like both of them took this job and they were paired together. Roi could take hits due to his new skills... But a healer would be helpful. He just had to keep his distance.

"You can call me Rory. When you're ready to head out, we can go." He wasn't going to bother getting too personal with her. She could state her name or not. He had given her his father's name. It was easy to remember and seeing as how he never met the man, it would hurt him at all to borrow it. Since the idiot died before he was born, at least he could give him one thing useful in life.

[unrealization]

The Crystal Exarch very rarely rested. In fact, he never slept. Siphoning energy from the tower allowed him to resist sleeping for some time. He did not have time to sleep. Not when he still hadn't been able to summon his target.

Nevertheless.... He can feel Evie's gaze on him. Perhaps she had noticed something. He had been secretive but he feared he had let his guard down. He did not know how much she knew from her time WITH Firmian.

"Is something amiss?" She had been a useful ally and he could only pray this was the start of her second chance at life. Yet saving both worlds came first and he would not survive to see if her being here helped restore her in the Source.

"If there is something you need, please do not hesitate to inform me."

Evie rested her chin on her fingers. For her, even such a simple sensation was a bit blissful. To live with no feeling, with no body of your own was an exercise in barely maintaining one's sanity. At her weakest moments, she prayed for the twelve to end it. Even to Azim and Nhaama at times, when she recalled them. Yet, here she was. Still a world away from Firmian, but very much whole and herself.

The Crystal Exarch had, by accident, given her some semblance of her life back. An unprecedented feat on Hydaelyn; or more accurately, the Source. It was humbling, if not a bit fascinating. She was a natural talent at the arcane arts, understanding the movements and manipulation of aether intimately when other children were learning times tables. Even she failed to understand how he had managed it.

When she was with Firmian, her understanding of aether expanded, as she saw the world more through aether than her own eyes. That afforded her a rather unique perspective, seeing the world as a voidsent might. It wasn't inconceivable that the First could have its own Crystal Tower, but the aetheric signature of the place was identical to the one she'd seen on the Source. Moreover, the Crystarium itself was built using what looked like old Allagan tech.

And then there was the Exarch himself. His manner of dress was also quite Allagan in appearance. It was curious. Too curious for her to ignore.

"I'm curious. You tell your people I reside in your homeland. Pray tell, what land might that be? Somewhere outside Norvrandt, perhaps?"

If he was indeed Allagan, she would surely have cause to doubt his intentions a bit. Although if his ends were to bring Firmian here, she would hesitate to deny him that.

[unrealization]

"You haven't got a fucking clue." from Roi to Firmian.

@styxisms | Horror and the Wild

"Oh, please. By all means, Coello. Enlighten me. What is it that I don't understand?"

The mages of Eorzea were so far behind the scholars he was used to back home. The trouble was that all mages were, to a greater or lesser extent, arrogant know-it-alls. At least the students of the academy actually had the knowledge to back up that attitude.

Roi Coello was the worst type of mage. All arrogance and the pursuit of power with no love for the craft. He was just like Firmian when he was younger. Magic was just a means to an end. Evie had pulled him out of that mindset, showed him that magic was more than a replacement for a blade.

He felt a pull to impart that same lesson on his ignorant colleague, even if he did constantly rebuff his attempts.

"I can all but guarantee I know more about magic than you do. Unless there's something else I'm missing. Please, share with the class."

[unrealization]

❛ You don't have to know a person's name to know who they are. ❜ / for Ashlynn!

@ruinsapproach | AAA sentence starters

She hadn't thought about it for a while, but for most a name was central to their identity, wasn't it? The name they were given at birth follows them all their life. It was a bond. A link in a chain leading back to their parents. Was there a single person alive who remembered the name Ashlynn was born with? Many knew Ashlynn Redwraith, but her original name burned along with her home and the person she would have become in her old life. She had often considered whether it was fair to the people around her to conceal who she used to be, but it wasn't something she considered much these days. The people who mattered to her called her Ashlynn. That was the only name she wanted now.

Still, such musing was hardly related to the statement at hand. Many knew of her name and her deeds, but they didn't truly know her. In her experience, you didn't know someone truly until you see their resolve tested. We are most ourselves in our hardest moments. Maybe that was just cynicism, but she'd seen her companions rise to the occasion time and time again.

Spend enough time with someone, and eventually they'll show you who they are. For better or for worse.

By her own standards, she was far from a saint and she knew it. Struggle had hardened her heart so many times. She didn't believe she would ever live up to her lofty reputation. No matter how many people called her a hero, or a friend her inner voice would say; Would they say this if they saw the real me?

Who was the real her? She wasn't even sure at times. Why not lean into the positive image people saw? She simply couldn't. She was what she was. Someone whose primary value was that she was strong. She was fortunate to be surrounded by so many good people. She couldn't imagine who she would be without them.

"Sorry. You caught me a bit lost in thought. Can I help you?"

Ashlynn presumed that the actual meaning of the raen's words was something pertaining to her reputation as an adventurer. She was, after all, possibly the strongest swordswoman on this side of the salt. Her life recently had been so hectic that it felt almost quaint to be recognized as a common adventurer again, if not nostalgic. She honestly wouldn't mind the distraction right now.

"If its a sellsword you need, I am available. I won't charge you too much, either. I'd rather enjoy some time away from the city."

[unrealization]

[Finally added an About Page for my main WoL. Bio will come later, but I hope this is enough to go off of.]

About Ashlynn

Basic Information:

Full Name: Ashlynn Redwraith

Aliases: Warrior of Light, Ash, Warrior of Darkness, Champion of Eorzia, etc

Class: Dark Knight (Most verses)

Age: 24

Species: Raen Au Ra

Pronouns: She/her

Romantic Orientation: Biromantic

Sexual Orientation: Bisexual

Right or left Handed: Right Handed

Family: Parents are dead.

Songs that Represent them: River, Rain, I Am Electric, End of our Days, Nuclear

Status: Primary, Open, Crossover friendly

Personality and important info:

Ashlynn can come across as cold and standoffish. Always on guard and ready to fight at a moment's notice. She doesn't show emotions well, and doesn't trust people easily. Every bit of her demeanor is constructed to try and construe herself as a threat. To tell the world to back off. To this end, she could be described as smoldering, ready to burst into flames when provoked. She is quick to anger, using her potential for violence as a defense mechanism should her other walls fail.

When she or her friends are threatened, The flames erupt. She throws herself into a fight with an almost suicidal recklessness. She can often be seen sustaining life-threatening injuries without a care. She sees value in herself as both a sword and shield, but has a hard time seeing value in herself as a person.

To her few friends and comrades, she is fiercely protective. Should anything happen to them she would be lost. Without a place in the world to call home. Despite her standoffishness, she tries to act as a protective big sister to her friends. She loves the people close to her, but has a difficult time expressing it.

She sees herself as a realist, but in actuality has a very pessimistic outlook on the world. Despite that, she sees other people's naivete and innocence as something worth protecting. It was something she lost far too early in life, and she would rather not see anyone else suffer as she did. "Life is hard enough. I'll not make it harder for the people around me."

Ashlynn is not quick to forgive. Even in understanding a former enemy, she is not likely to forget the wrongs they committed.

She is secretly quite insecure. She is particularly sensitive about her height. She is on the shorter end, even for other Au Ra women. She is easily rattled by jokes about her height. Quick to take notice of anyone who is actually shorter than her, and feel slightly cocky about it.

Appearance:

Ashlynn is a short Raen woman with wavy blonde hair and black irises. The bright red limbal rings make her eyes shine in the dark. She is never seen without her weapon, a great sword that is as big as she is upon her back. She dresses very practically, and is usually wearing some form of armor or protective gear. Her gaze is serious and probing, as if she doubts the world's intentions and is daring it to make a move.

Her body has numerous small scars from a lifetime of battle and hardship, but her most prominent scar is a knife wound on her chest, inches away from her heart.

Biography:

[To be added at a later time.]

[unrealization]

To Firmian in the ARR era: 🌧

"So what's with the voidsent? If the wrong person learns about it, you'll probably be thrown in prison." Not that Roi would ever tell anyone. It's not his business. Still, the curiosity was there.

Force my muse to spill the beans | Accepting

"Is that a threat, Coello? I would expect a fellow Black Mage to know the value of discretion in such matters."

Given his superior talent and skill, Firmian was certain he'd win if it came down to a fight between himself and Roi. Still, he couldn't afford to risk his life unnecessarily. He could easily make some excuse. A research project?

No. Something compels him to be more honest. Against his better judgement.

"This... Is the result of a terrible mistake I made."

The voidsent; Evie, was just one of many marks he bore to remind himself. His own body was covered in reminders of her. Her hair on his head. Scars she made. Her scent seemed to return when he drew out his aether. She was always there, but never in the way he wanted her to be. Just close enough that her absence was always on his mind. Her voice in his head, imaging what she might say. The friends she might have made where he could only muster acquaintances.

The sheer injustice of it all. His continued existence was a mockery of her.

"Power bears a cost, Roi. We can never truly master it. I learned that the hard way. To check my power, and to check my words. That's why I give you grief, you know."

He sighed. This next part was hard for him to say.

"You're probably the only person in this country I would consider a peer. Do not repeat my mistakes. Please. You might not be the one who gets hurt. I made a momentary lapse in judgement, and it cost someone else their life."

He eyed the voidsent. The tiny flicker of her that remained.

"...Someone very dear to me."

He took a deep breath. No tears. He hadn't earned them yet.

"As for the voidsent itself, I keep it fed. Tiny amounts of aether. She's harmless. Not a danger to anyone."

[unrealization]

The heat on the streets, it muddies up the lazy summer skies Of you and of me, it painted an image of an age where dreams were still in our bright eyes

The sun and the sea, We shared the very fabric of our lives But where will we be as days repeat And ever I change far away from who I'm meant to be?

The pain in your eyes it shines on so bright It echoes the shame of every wound you hide

To the petals that scatter in the night, to your pride I wave goodbye

Eternally, Blue will spread its wings Eternally, Blue is flying free Soaring through all the prayers and pretty lies I'm reaching out a hand but never seem to find you Something like love in a dance down the cheeks A colorful pain and a following of grief What is the feeling? The words that tie a curse to call you They crawl up my throat in a hate-anew

"Tell me, is it really ending?" You shisper in your loneliness

The dust of the stars, the beating of your heart They all slip away out into the galaxy

[unrealization]

[Playing Dawntrail story very, very slowly. I'll probably post overall thoughts once I finish.]

[unrealization]

Y'shtola was a busy woman. Ever since she began her training with Master Matoya, rest was a distant and fair weather friend. First it was her studies. Then, the fate of the realm. Then, the star itself. The second the world was secured, she quickly busied herself with the task of connecting the Source to its shards.

No rest for the righteous, as they say.

Still, some of her comrades insisted on poking their noses in where they did not belong. She had heard so many passing mentions about her 'condition' that it was beginning to grate on her nerves. She was not some babe in need of coddling. She managed just fine, despite her 'condition.' In fact, she would dare say she was thriving.

Still, some among her comrades insisted upon overstepping. Surely it was dangerous to manipulate her aether in order to counteract her blindness as often as she did. Ridiculous. She knew what she was doing.

She returned his bow, taking the offered seat. Who better to plead her case than a professor on the subject? Nevertheless, she was sure he would have a lot of valuable knowledge on not only her condition, but the other aspects of her work.

"I'd love some tea, thank you." She smiled, "I don't suppose you have some time to engage in hypotheticals. I have an inquiry that requires a keen medical mind, and I could think of none better to ask."

@unrealization || FOLLOWED.

"Archon-" He greets respectfully with a dip of his head and a gesture towards a chair poised opposite his desk; "Would you, perhaps, like some tea-?" Quite why she was there, visiting his office, he didn't yet know but he found that comfort always eased such things first and foremost.

"I'm curious-- what calls for a visit to my humble office this morn?" Her timing was, in fact, impeccable. 'T would not be long ere he would have to turn towards the Studium in order to teach his classes for the day; as exhausted as he was, that day, he still had to keep up with his responsibilities. "What is it I can help you with?"

[unrealization]

Invasive question: Ashlynn have you ever been in love?

Invasive Questions | Accepting!

Anon asked Ashlynn. Question rating 5/10

"No, probably not."

It wasn't a question with a straightforward answer. She cared deeply for people but the idea of a romantic entanglement felt like it wasn't for her. Why allow such feelings to burden her if there was nothing to come of it? Her immediate impulse would be to drown out her affections. Let them slip away. It wasn't like she was capable of allowing anyone that close. It wasn't like she could be there for someone in that way.

It felt like a burden. She felt like a burden. Answering felt like a burden. It was easier to just ignore her heart and just exist as a weapon.

"People say they love me, and I don't believe them. They can't really know me because I don't let them. I care for people, but I know if I let them see all of me they won't like what they see. I'd rather avoid the disappointment. For me and for them."

It felt strange speaking so honestly. She'd grown so accustomed to hiding herself that she barely recognized her own voice when she explained how she felt.

[unrealization]

@ruiination said ❛ The world might not be safe but listen to me, and listen carefully. I won't let anything happen to you. ❜ from g'raha to evie when she gets to the first.

Her heart heart pounded in her chest, the battle she had been pulled away from still fresh in her mind. It was a feeling she had mostly forgotten, each beat startling her.

His words nearly fall on deaf ears. She remembered falling. Firmian falling in battle. The very fact that she was here meant he likely wasn't anymore. Terror gave way to sorrow, which gave way to bitter anger. What cruel gods this world must have, to take him and then bring her back. He who had done nothing other than make a single mistake, and she who had devoured their classmates. Why should she persist?

When she parses his statement something flares within her. It was meant to be a comfort, but she would have none of it. The air around her sparked with aether, the blaze in her eyes threatening to spill into the space around her.

"You won't let anything happen to me? You would say that after you ripped me from him? I am not someone who needs your protection."

She stood, forgetting her fear. Her eyes glared up at the hooded figure.

"You'd better explain yourself right now, or I'll find out if crystal can burn."

[unrealization]

“When is the last time you ate?” to ash from raha

Noticing Trauma | Accepting

@ruiination

She sighed.

"I wish you wouldn't fuss so much."

She'd been too busy to worry about food. In fact, she'd gotten used to traveling days without eating when she was younger. This was nothing. How long could it have possibly been? A day? Two?

She recalled eating some bread a few days ago. Other than a bit of light headedness she didn't feel particularly weak.

Then again, maybe it would be easier to just acquiesce to Raha's demands. Save herself a headache later by acting now.

"Fine. If you're hungry, I'll eat with you, okay?"