Character blog for the Ejinn siblings, Chuluun and Rosalyn.
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Prompt #3: Scale
One less. Two less. Three, four, five, six.
Chuluun so quickly lost count of the number of scales that had shed free from their skin, again and again those little armor like plates seeing themselves free of alabaster flesh. The skin below was smooth, pristine, flawless as the day they were born.
When Vral was born.
Is that who they had become? No, Luun still felt at home in the name he- no, no- they had been given. It just felt more honest now. Felt natural. Felt whole.
Sapphire eyes peered into a mirror, stared at a reflection that was familiar and yet unfamiliar all the same. The xaela had fewer scales than they had moons prior, one arm all but fully bare, their jaw nearly shed clean, exposing the true sharp beauty of their face; like a regal serpent from the depths of an ancient river.
Luun sucked in their lower lip, sank teeth into it while their eyes drank in this new reflection. Eyes; dimmed in the absence of once bright limbal rings; met in the glass some noticeable ilms lower than usual. The world had gotten larger, or had they simply gotten shorter? It should be terrifying, yet all Chuluun found in the pit of their stomach was delight.
The more those eyes traced this figure the more they spotted things that grabbed more interest. The cut and curve of hips and waist were a touch more defined in places, more supple in others. It was such a glorious sight to behold, a perfection they had never thought they could see in themself.
Chuluun reached forward, planted their hands upon the mirror, fingers spread wide as they leaned into their reflection, pressed their forehead to the glass and grinned with wild elation. They couldn’t wait to see what else would change. They couldn’t wait for more of those scales to fall away. Gods they couldn’t wait to feel whole and complete, but already they were enamored with all that they saw, erect and shaking with so much unbridled excitement.
It fluttered out of him in a laugh, in a rising crescendo that met its peak with a name, with a call for another soul. “Ivan!” Come look. Come see. Come admire all that he was becoming.
“Fuluh!”
(Mention: @ivanxemear )
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Prompt #29: Paternal
“You’re doing great!”
So much praise to reward a few successful spells. Chuluun couldn’t be more proud of his daughter’s progress with conjury. Sure, he was extremely biased, but that didn’t detract from how well Newt was doing.
She had taken to the craft so quickly, ever eager to learn more. It was almost a challenge to keep her training well paced. Had to learn to walk before running after all, and learning magic was no different.
“Alright, let's do a few more practice rounds then take a break.” Luun settled back into a defensive stance once more, ready to ward off the soon to come attacks.
There was no hesitation once it was clear the sparring was going to continue, Newt wasting no time in pulling at the aether around her to form a condensed ball of wind energy to lob at her father. The spell was met with a similar mass of aether, the two easily negating one another so she opted to pull some stone up from the earth to hurl at her target instead.
Again and again each cast was met with one of the same design, only on a larger scale. She just simply couldn’t get out do them; couldn’t break through those defenses. It was so frustrating! Her father could see that, but frustration was a part of training. Having goals to reach and examples of what she could one day be capable of. That was what Chuluun intended to show her at any rate. To his surprise, the runty little brat had other plans.
As a large slab of earth was pulled up to act as a shield against an oncoming barrage of stones, Luun quickly noticed a sudden shift in the aether around them. For only a second he noticed the cold sharply contracting the warmth of the La Noscean sun before an ice shard impaled itself into that earthy wall he held before himself. Wait.
A second icicle embed itself into the soil shield before the spell was dropped, providing Luun a clear view to his daughter and the spells she was weaving. Unpracticed as they were, the motions were familiar, as was the draw of aether, panic racing up his spine when a spark of fire caught his eye. “Newt, stop!” The thunderous snap of his voice brought everything to a stand still.
Silence layered over them, Chuluun taking his time to let his heart rate settle before finally finding his voice. “Where did you learn that?”
Newt put off giving an answer, eyes cast to the rising tide as her mouth pressed shut and cheeks flared in a stubborn pout.
“Newt.” Her father urged, tone patient but stern.
She doubled down on that silent pout.
“Naimanzu…” That patience was not indefinite, and she knew that if he got to her full name, she would have real trouble to face.
“I-I read it in a book!” She finally huffed, throwing her arms up in the air in excessive exasperation.
“A book from where?” Some part of Luun already knew, yet still he asked.
“Dad’s library. I took it when everyone was busy.” Still her eyes avoided her father, brows creased with insistent annoyance. She was having fun, what was the big deal?
“Ivan is going to have a conniption.” Luun groaned to himself. Teaching her how to reach Eorzean common was a mistake. “You can’t just do those sorts of things. This is dangerous; you could have gotten hurt, or hurt someone else.”
“... I know.” Newt relented with a slight sigh, gaze downcast with guilt.
“Why? Why steal and book and try to learn all this on your own?” This was unlike her. For so long he watched his daughter ask questions and seek help and training openly and honestly. What changed?
“I just… I wanted to prove myself. Prove that I could do this.” A heavy breath rattled out of her in a wave of emotional unrest. “I wanted to prove that I could be a worthy student, so Dad would teach me like you do, Aav. He’s teaching Enka! She’s… She’s terrifying! How can I match up to that?”
Well this certainly got out of hand. Luun shook his head, stepping over to place his hands upon his daughter’s shoulders, giving her a gentle shake as if trying to snap her out of her spiraling thoughts.
“Hey, don’t worry yourself with things like that. It’s not a competition. I’m sure Ivan will teach you; would have from the start if you had just asked. There was no need for all the secrecy.” He knelt down, concern claiming his features as he watched the unrest remain upon his child’s face.
“But he keeps secrets. He’s always so tense about his work, and magic. I know there is a lot you don’t tell me. I just thought if I studied, I’d understand, and I’d be able to help, and… and…” The heel of her palm lifted to rub at one of her teary eyes as she stifled back a woeful sound in her throat. “I don’t want to lose him too.”
Carefully Chuluun collected Newt up into his arms, trying to provide what comfort and reassurance he could while struggling to find the right words to do so. He couldn’t tell her how to process the loss of another parent, regardless of how much time had passed and what circumstances they were in now. He couldn’t fault her for her worries.
“You won’t. Nothing in this world could keep him from coming back home to you. You need only ask Ivan yourself, and he’ll reassure you. I promise.” What more could he say? He could carry on and on trying to make her feel better, but in the end it was best to just let her get it out of her system.
Only after Newt had settled did Luun speak again.
“Let’s go home and rescue Ivan from his work.” ( Mention: @ivanxemear )
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Femia
“Anton?”
Ocean waves drowned out the softly spoken name, but they couldn’t do anything to remove the unending silence on the other end of the linkpearl.
“It’s been over forty days now… I miss you.”
Rosalyn wasn’t surprised to receive more silence as a response. It was no different than the evening before, or the one before that. For each night she was without him.
Beautiful as it was; calming and peaceful; Shirogane’s beach still wasn’t quite enough to keep her mind settled. She knew better, and yet here she was, sitting outside in the dark, overlooking the sea, and talking into her linkpearl in some futile hope that maybe things would be different. That something would change.
“Everything lately has been so…” She struggled for a proper way to describe any of it. Nothing really hit the mark. “It’s hard to deal with any of them anymore. Always just one problem after the next, and I don’t know how to help. I’m worried Ivan is drowning and I’m the only one that sees it.” Her lungs were filled with a shaken inhale.
“But I’m sure you’re tired of hearing from me by now.” A humorless sob of a laugh chased her words as the heel of her palm wiped at her eyes. “I’ll try again tomorrow… I love you.”
That silence pressed in around her, and for a moment she couldn’t hear the breeze, or the waves, only the ringing in her horns.
“Come home, please.” Her voice cracked below the pressure of the silence that linkpearl provided, her words growing stained, desperate. “Please.” Another sob, pleading, distressed as she repeated the word, as if the gods themselves might lend their aid.
But still that silence remained.
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Femia - Purity Ring
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Healing
( Mature content warning. TW: blood, self harm)
It was probably a mistake, for Chuluun to have taught her so well. To provide the tools and knowledge needed to nurture such old bad habits.
Rosalyn drew in a careful breath before releasing it as a slow, methodical exhale. The knife in hand sank into the soft skin of her wrist, bit by bit. Another deep inhale and the blade was pulled down. One ilm. Two. She barely hit the end of three when a pained sound hit her throat and the knife clattered to the floor of the bath.
A hand was quick to clamp down over the dizzying rush of blood, to stifle the flood her racing heart was quick to provide. It thundered in her chest, and she could feel every pulse pushing against her palm, pushing blood up between her fingers.
Breathe. Just breathe.
The following inhale was sharp, breathing in the pain, the ringing in her horns, the foggy rush in her head. She knew this all too well, but it was somehow still startling when it started. The pain didn’t stop, not on the hitched exhale, not with the downpour of more blood raining into the bathwater. Everything was starting to blur at the edges, and with each new second, each hard beat of her heart, her arms felt all the gravity pressing down on them. It shouldn’t be this hard to carry.
Let it go. Let them down.
What a smothering things it was. What more could they ask of her? What more could they take? What more could she give? How can I help? What do you need? What can I do? All for what? To what end? Coarse words, unkind expressions, every offering taken with only burdens given back. What did she have left to give? What did they want? What did they expect? What did she expect?
“Nobody wants to talk to someone who just happens to be there. Why would anyone approach you…”
The hand gripped so tightly to her wrist loosened, body sinking with uneven breaths until her arm graced the water below with a blossoming of deep crimson. Her head was swimming, drowning in all the noise she couldn’t put to words, the screams she kept trapped in her lungs. Could they hear it? Did they want to hear it? None of them listened. None of them cared to. None of them… None…?
Focus. Just focus.
For them. For those few. For the exceptions to the rule. They deserved that much. They deserved better. Again Lyn’s right hand clasped onto her left arm, stifling the flow of blood once more, drawing her attention acutely back to the sharp ache in her tender flesh. She would breath. She would focus. She could remember everything she was taught, all the times she had made use of her aether before. Pull deep, let it form, and let it go.
Unsteady breaths worked in and out of her lungs, rattling free on the heels of tears, of frantic pain forged sobs. Glowing aether brought comfort; brought warmth and a calmer rhythm in her chest. It did little to silence the din in her mind. Nothing seemed to make it stop completely, but at least this quieted it down, for just a little while. The cuts could be mended, erased as if they never happened, and the blood washed away, but the weight on her could never really be carved off. She’d find herself here again, just as she had found herself here before.
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#23: Parched
He missed it. The waters of home, the rivers of the Azim Steppe.
Chuluun stared out at the ocean, wiggling his toes in the sands of the beach. The Mists was as good as it could get, when it came to calling a place home. Or a home away from home. It still wasn’t quite the same. It wasn’t the same skyline, the same breeze, and the water was just different. He enjoyed it all well enough, but still part of him longed for the Steppes. Sure, he visited, traveled to and from here and there on the regular now, staying for a few sennights then departing. Had a whole routine and everything.
A few steps were taken, bringing him further out into the water, drowning the whole of his legs rather than just his ankles. These waters were very different indeed. Clean, pristine. Safe. Were the waters of the Steppe really better? Was that really all he missed? Maybe it was the culture, the ways of his tribe. Eorzeans did truly live differently.
The thoughts lingered for a moment, drawing a hum out of the Xaela while he watched the distant boats coming and going. Maybe he was just nostalgic for a different time, maybe the things he missed were things he couldn’t quite grasp onto. Every time he returned to the Steppes that homesick feeling lingered, he couldn’t quite shake it. Things weren’t like this all the time, there were times when he never even thought about it, missing one place or another. More often than not though it was there in the back of his mind.
“Luun?” An all too familiar voice called to him from the sandy shore. When he turned to greet his husband, he spotted another standing at Ivan’s side.
“I believe you were right when you said teaching her to use the Aetherytes was a mistake.” Ivan mused, a touch of humor in his voice. At his side Naimanzu stood with her head held high, still a couple fulms shorter than the Keeper. She was maybe a little too proud of herself for finding her way here from the Azim Steppes without an escort.
As annoyed as he should have been with his daughter for running away from home, Chuluun couldn’t help but smirk. He was happy to see her, and for the moment, with the two of them there, that homesick feeling went forgotten.
Ivan belongs to @ivanxemear. Used with permission.
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Prompt #10: Foster
Little tapping feet. Swaying tall ears. Rough gemstones held high for all to see and admire. This certainly was a lively, cute little cluster of spriggans, and Rosalyn was eager to get them all home. Such tiny little things, left orphaned after the more recent clearing of the mines. Tragic how quickly they put down the adults without even attempting to reason with them. They were smart creatures, capable of speech, of magic, and people treated them like vermin. Oh how she hated it. At least she could do something for these little ones, like so many before. “Don’t worry, my sweet little Dusties. I’ll get you each a perfect home, just have to find the right people for you. Until then, I’ll keep you safe.”
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Specify Lyn or Luun, otherwise I’ll give an answer for both.
Unusual questions for your muse
🛌- Does your muse prefer to sleep under many layers of blankets or only under a few? 🎀- Does your muse like to accessorize? What are their favorite pieces of accessories? 🎐- Does your muse like to collect/hoard anything? 🛋- Does your muse like to have company over? 📱- Is your muse the “oversharing” type? 🐰- Does your muse prefer soft, plush textures or smooth and glossy textures? 💎- Is your muse drawn to things that sparkle? 🔖- Is your muse a daydreamer? What do they tend to think about? Have they ever caught themselves while lost in thought? 📰- Does your muse like to read the news? 📇- Is your muse a gossiper? 🕹- What does your muse do to occupy themselves when bored? 🏚- Does your muse like to explore dangerous places? 🌋- Has your muse done something stupid and not regret it? ⛪️- Does your muse enjoy attending churches they don’t belong to? 🛣- Is your muse considered a wanderer? 🐺- Would your muse consider themselves a lone wolf or a social butterfly? 🤝- Does your muse forgive others easily? 🖖- What “Fandoms” would your muse belong to? 🎖- Does your muse enjoy praise? 🎟- Do they like “so bad it’s good” movies? 🎠- Does your muse like amusement parks/carnivals/festivals? 🏝- Could your muse survive on an uninhabited island all by themselves?
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This is insanely perfect!
Thank you @nnamier for this amazing commission of Ivan and Luun. You definitely captured how sweet but playful they both are!
Also, Luun now has a blog- @ejinnkoi
#Chuluun#Ivan#au ra xaela#keeper of the moon#crystal data center#mateus#art#nnamier#amazing commission
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Do me a favor. Reblog this if you welcome the use of ask memes as icebreakers between characters that have never, or rarely, interacted before.
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Chuluun Ejinn | Odval Dotharl. Spouse of @ivanxemear
Profile coming soon.
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Rosalyn Valeroyant | Black Koi of the Ejinn. Spouse of Anton Valeroyant.
Profile coming soon.
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