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One last hurrah before I fant him back to being a guy. Twas fun runnin around cosplaying 2B I swear. 

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I tried! But as for now Kurt’ll be like this til RP hits his face or I wanna turn him back into guy!Kurt

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Dress up my muse by submitting outfits into my inbox and my muse will tell you how they feel about the outfit you chose

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More Arbitrary Ask Memes!

Send me an icon and I’ll tell you:

💢 - Something that really peeves my muse

🔑 - Are they secretive?

🌻 - Do they care for nature?

🌹 - My muse’s feelings about beauty and vanity

💔 - How my muse reacts to being rejected (romantically)

❓ - Their ‘dere’ type? (yandere, tsundere, etc.)

🎱 - Their lucking number (or something that they associate with luck)

🙌 - Their religious views

🔫 - Would they murder another person? If so, for what reason(s)?

💣 - Are they a trickster? Would they ever play a prank on someone, even if it was potentially dangerous?

🚬 - Vices or bad habits and how they impact my muse’s day to day life

💊 - Are they addicted to anything? (substances, sex, etc.)

💀 - Their views and feelings about death

🍴 - Their dietary habits

🐹 - Do they have any pets? If so, what kind? 

👻 - Are they superstitious? 

😰 - Do they suffer from any mental illnesses (or other setbacks that aren’t immediately visible?)

😍 - A few ideal traits of their dream partner

😒 - Are they an introvert or an extrovert? 

💲 - Details about their home life and financial situation 

🔒 - A dark secret they keep hidden from others (perhaps even themselves in some cases)

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Character Development Questions: Hard Mode

Does your character have siblings or family members in their age group? Which one are they closest with?

What is/was your character’s relationship with their mother like?

What is/was your character’s relationship with their father like?

Has your character ever witnessed something that fundamentally changed them? If so, does anyone else know?

On an average day, what can be found in your character’s pockets?

Does your character have recurring themes in their dreams?

Does your character have recurring themes in their nightmares?

Has your character ever fired a gun? If so, what was their first target?

Is your character’s current socioeconomic status different than it was when they were growing up?

Does your character feel more comfortable with more clothing, or with less clothing?

In what situation was your character the most afraid they’ve ever been?

In what situation was your character the most calm they’ve ever been?

Is your character bothered by the sight of blood? If so, in what way?

Does your character remember names or faces easier?

Is your character preoccupied with money or material possession? Why or why not?

Which does your character idealize most: happiness or success?

What was your character’s favorite toy as a child?

Is your character more likely to admire wisdom, or ambition in others?

What is your character’s biggest relationship flaw? Has this flaw destroyed relationships for them before?

In what ways does your character compare themselves to others? Do they do this for the sake of self-validation, or self-criticism?

If something tragic or negative happens to your character, do they believe they may have caused or deserved it, or are they quick to blame others?

What does your character like in other people?

What does your character dislike in other people?

How quick is your character to trust someone else?

How quick is your character to suspect someone else? Does this change if they are close with that person?

How does your character behave around children?

How does your character normally deal with confrontation?

How quick or slow is your character to resort to physical violence in a confrontation?

What did your character dream of being or doing as a child? Did that dream come true?

What does your character find repulsive or disgusting?

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most comfortable.

Describe a scenario in which your character feels most uncomfortable.

In the face of criticism, is your character defensive, self-deprecating, or willing to improve?

Is your character more likely to keep trying a solution/method that didn’t work the first time, or immediately move on to a different solution/method?

How does your character behave around people they like?

How does your character behave around people they dislike?

Is your character more concerned with defending their honor, or protecting their status?

Is your character more likely to remove a problem/threat, or remove themselves from a problem/threat?

Has your character ever been bitten by an animal? How were they affected (or unaffected)?

How does your character treat people in service jobs?

Does your character feel that they deserve to have what they want, whether it be material or abstract, or do they feel they must earn it first?

Has your character ever had a parental figure who was not related to them?

Has your character ever had a dependent figure who was not related to them?

How easy or difficult is it for your character to say “I love you?” Can they say it without meaning it?

What does your character believe will happen to them after they die? Does this belief scare them?

[genericactionhero-blog]

This is gold I swear I can’t even

Gomenasai, my name is Mathias-Sama

I’m a 47 year old Ishgardian Ronin (knight-errant for you gaijins). I draw Doman artwork on traditional scrolls, and spend my days perfecting my art and playing superior Doman games. (Shogi, Go, Chinese Checkers)

I train with my Katana every day, this superior weapon can cut clean through steel because it is folded over a thousand times, and is vastly superior to any other weapon on Hydalyn. I will earn my samurai soul on the 21st sun of the 3rd Umbral Moon in the 1st year of the 7th Astral Era, and I’m going to get better every day!

I speak Doman fluently, both Othard and the Au Ra dialect, and I write fluently as well. I know everything about Doman history and their bushido code, which I follow 100%

When I get my Doman visa, I am moving to Kugane to attend a prestigious dojo to learn more about their magnificent culture. I hope I can become the shogun of shoguns like my idol Legatus Xenos Yae Galvus!

I own several kimonos, which I wear around Ul'Dah. I want to get used to wearing them before I move to Doma, so I can fit in easier. I bow to my elders and seniors and speak Doman as often as I can, but rarely does anyone manage to respond.

Wish me luck in Doma!

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Kurt Fears

BOLD ANY FEARS WHICH APPLY TO YOUR MUSE. ITALICIZE WHAT MAKES THEM UNCOMFORTABLE.

the dark. fire. open water. deep water. being alone. crowded spaces. confined spaces. change. failure. war. loss of control. powerlessness. prison. blood. drowning. suffocation. public speaking. natural animals. the supernatural. heights. death. dying. intimacy. rejection. abandonment. loss. the unknown. the future. not being good enough. scary stories. speaking to new people. poverty. loud noises. being touched.

Tagged by: @ffxivaltaholic

Tagging: Everyone I know!

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See you Gothlander...

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But can you teach a Xaela Eorzean Common though?

((Because I have a Xaela that can’t, for the life of her, speak what you Eorzeans speak and that’s a problem she seems to have much difficulty solving. The language barrier’s nice and all but I still think it hampers any chance of walk ups. Sooo think anyone out there knows their way around both tongues?)) “Y-yes, hallo. Am no E..eyor...ziyan.” The xaela’s tail scratching along her thigh as she addressed you, dear reader. Her blue eyes stare back at you after her spot of muttering. Apprehension made her stiff. Nothing but the light swaying back and forth counted as motion. Her hands, held behind her back was fidgeting. Finger overlapping finger, scratching, folding, unfolding, rubbing. The gears of her mind turning.  

(For those of you who may just have the echo because that’s a thing to here’s what she muttered. “<Please, Dusk Mother, let me speak with them. Let me understand the words.>”) And once you start talking, it doesn’t matter what you say. Her expression never changes, as if she was straining to hang onto at least one word she’d recognize. Her brow knit together. Her eyes scanning across your face as if the words were written like a strange text trying to pick out the most vaguely familiar symbol to her. Except her eyes never stop scrolling. Eventually their attention is placed to the floor between you.  A few moments pass before a wry smile tugs her lips. Her tail wraps tighter around her thigh while the tip of her boot scrapes at the floor. “Am sorree.” Her hands fall back to her sides, glued to her flank while she dipped in a stiff Othardian bow. It was her cue to take her leave. It stung that she had wasted another person’s valuable time. It stung that while a deceased Eorzean recognized her capabilities she couldn’t even translate a thank you. It stung that despite finding work she still felt like useless weight. It was outright terrifying to suspect that maybe that tall red xaela might just be a cannibal Dotharl that could eat her after all.  -Nayaga Haragin

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SCHLAPPEH

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Do you ever get that feeling?

I feel like this a lot about my friends.

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Please reblog if you are an Rper on Balmung!

I just made tumblrs for my Final Fantasy characters and am looking for more blogs to follow! 

[genericactionhero-blog]

A Quiet Moment

(DISCLAIMER: BRACE YOURSELF FOR QUESTIONABLE-TIER WRITING. And a blatantly amateurish performance of a midlander with anger issues)

Kurt found himself listening to the quiet hum of the pieces of magitek that lay on his worktable, a central piece of his apartment. There was a limit to how much he understood them, not quiet being a Garlean engineer himself.  A sigh brushed past his lips as set his tools down and watched the ceruleum dance through the pipes, squeezing his eyes shut and recalling a time he was doing that mesmerizing routine to a quiet beat no one knew or heard of. A flight of fancy someone else possessed.  None but the statue at Anchor Yard and Limsa’s lighthouse knew. He rose from the seat and grabbed the jury-rigged rod from the table. A flick of his wrist saw the small rod snap into something longer. A wicked blade sat on one end of the makeshift spear. The blue light from the quite the expensive chandelier danced along the edge of his weapon. Contrary to his love for bright reds, his apartment was bathed in a blue glow. Several wall sconces bounced off the blade and the shaft of his spear. The blade sailed back and forth in front of him while he closed his eyes and hummed, putting himself back at Anchor Yard. He could almost hear the bells of the ships and the idle crash of the waves against the foundations of Limsa.  Idle. Slow. The dancing sway of his spear, following the beat of phantom drums. “I will not bow. Will not break. Slave to the beast..” The hum started to bear words, following a rebellious melody. He wasn’t close to any proper performers but that was the beauty of being in his apartment. Being in Anchor Yard. No Audience to please, no expectations to meet. Just himself. The spear tip left the floor and started following arcs that turned into full circles in front of him.  “My thoughts drown in a bloody stream.”

“Yet may that tide ever flow, draining with life, to a pool I will bathe.” 

The shaft started to slip down his arm til he held the neck. The brown hues of his eyes misting red. As if he had grown fangs, coming more feral to court the beast that lay within. it was a fine line he walked. A part of his private performance kept only for himself. The circle had come tighter and tighter. The butt of the spear coming forward in an arc. Shaft spinning along his neck it snapped to a phantom target next to him. A loose grip threw the spear forward til his fingers wrapped hard around the shaft and stopped it. The routine rinsed and repeated once more. 

“I’ll seek all death, with a naked blade.”

“Now a red, furious mist beckons.”

“Blind to the death that I sow.”

“Stop my path, save me, friend or foe.” His spear slapped left and right, spinning along his neck and whipping behind him. He seemed to be following the beat of the phantom drums now. His body twisted and turned to let the spear bite deeper and deeper into the stationary conjured targets in his head. Watching them crumple one by one, feeding into a fabricated blood lust. His fangs were bare in the sadistic smile he wore. The speartip, skewered and gutted in his mind’s eye but to anyone else present he would have simply been dancing with his spear as a prop.  The silent dance continued til he discarded the spear, tossing it away and reaching for the axe that lay against the workdesk. Snarling at shadows, when no threat was there. Bristling at nothing, letting the lust run its course. “Dance to the death, to the scorn, of lovers and lives.” “Come the blood, painting all of the sky.” “Vows that I shan’t stain my life. I’m not a slave.” “This angry tide I brave.” A more primal dance followed. His motions were hard and violent, ilms from smashing his axe into something or someone nearby. His eyes misted red, consumed by the beast in a simple song and dance. The tone of his voice losing the rebellion and adopting sheer desperation, cracking with denial. Underneath the shirt he wore, his torso was taut to rein himself in, intentionally pulling himself back from leaving any unwanted marks on his den simply because he entertained a whim. The axe blade sailed up and over him, hopping to the side to lead with a vicious downward strike that hissed in the air.  “May my crumbling path stay true.” “Nymeia bless me virtue.” As his voice grew more desperate, his swings, the motions became more frantic, stilted and stiff. A great effort to keep himself in check while his feet shuffled and dragged along the floor. His body in constant motion to the phantom drums. Drums he slowly realized was the raising pulse and the beating of his beastly heart. “At your own whim’s end, I’ll gain peace and rest.”

“No needless violence.”

“This trial, this beast in my soul, becomes the greatest strength in me.”

There was a calm to his voice now. No longer fighting the bloody roars of the beast within. He didn’t quell the beast, letting the axe dance along around his body. Where once he thought himself in Anchor Yard, away from prying eyes, he found himself drifting in his own little limbo with the beast, copying his features, danced with him, mimicking his motions. Just for a moment he was in sync with the beast that loses control in the middle of a fight, whose sadism knew no boundaries.  The blade sailed around him, going through the motions instead of cutting down opponents that didn’t exist. It had started to glow orange, leaving a trail of smoke that left its own black aroma hanging in the apartment.  “After your storm still its wrath, comrades be spared.” The blade tip started breathing out small embers of fire that died in the air. Waves of heat that washed against his face.  “My worries, my fear find their own rest.”

“My control, your fury reflects, so all will know.”

“Our efforts brought them low.” The performance brought to its crescendo, dying out as soon as his body hit the floor with a thud. The axe clattered away next to the spear. He could only move his head, staring at the door. Then it sluggishly cast itself onto the axe, the blade glowing orange on the floor and leaving more steam rising up to the room.  “Shite...I overdid it with the aether again..”  For better or worse, if anyone deigned to walk in. He would be collapsed, exhausted and asleep on the cold wood of his apartment. 

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Hey lets play how hot is that character: Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY | (You had no other recent asks and I said I would send one so.... Here you go.... I'll say Dalain cause you know what she looks like, vs having to dig through my blog for the others.)

Not My Type | Alright | Cute | Adorable | Pretty | Gorgeous | LORD MERCY | AM I DOING IT RIGHT? D:Also dunno where to go find these asks magic things. ;w;

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Reblog if your muse would risk their life to save a loved one

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Reblog if it’s okay for non-mutuals to send you ask memes!