nascentgliint

[nascentgliint]

“you’re going to kill yourself if you keep doing this” I know. I know I knowiknow I know i know I know I know I KNOW

[nascentgliint]

It was sweet, the way she flustered and struggled to explain, as if he might take offence if she asked him to leave. T’was enough to curl the the edges of his lips into the first traces of a smile. 

“Understandable,” Sair’a says, knowing enough about other men—and himself besides—to think her fear warranted. “By all means, if I make you uncomfortable, do tell me to leave.” Though she seemed disinclined to do that at present, he was hardly going to blame her if she changed her tune, given how unsure of him she was.

“‘Tis often those with the least confidence that deserve it most, Olivia. I’m sure you sing beautifully, if your dancing is anything to go by.” 

@nascentgliint​ // cont.

Oh, he caught on really quickly. She was nervous but it wasn’t his fault! This was just chalked up to a previous incident she had and it just made her wary around men. Of course, she told herself he wasn’t like him to calm herself down. It took her a moment but she wasn’t too nervous like earlier. 

Shaking her head, she was trying her best to reassure him. “N-No! Not at all. I’m just wary usually around men though you seem kind. I can at least see that.” Finally calming down, she smiled at him. “Thank you again for enjoying my dancing. I can sing as well, but even then, it’s not that great either.”

[nascentgliint]

sirenicae​:

    They all did as they were told, Azalea calling out which way to go and how to hit her, almost as if she was familiar to the fight. But then again, Tali had always known her to be just that good. She was a natural when it came to combat, and while her story was still a mystery to the both of them after all these years, he felt that she had had the echo for quite some time now, even he had to adjust to his own. 

    But as the battle died down. and Garuda dissipated into her whirlwind of feathers, the warrior’s sense came back to him, and he all but tossed aside his weapon as he rushed to the familiar face’s side.

    “Oh thank the stars you’re alright~ I was half worried your injury might get you-” Tali paused, recalling the name that he had called him, before his feathery ear flickered back to his two friends, already bantering over who would be the first to report back to the scions in their never-ending argument to be the better hero. It was strange to hear that name out of him, but he figured he was only doing it because the stories of his journey had gotten around. Almost immediately did he zero in on his weak knee however, and he did his best to look it over. “Look, we…we can talk about where you’ve been later, are you alright? You nearly took the full brunt of the attack back there! Do you know how dangerous that would’ve been?!” 

    How silly now, that younger sibling was disciplining elder sibling…how the times had changed. 

In part, it’s a relief how easily one of Sw— Tali’s team takes control. She’s quick to issue orders and regain her bearings after the brief lapse that Walter’s arrival gave back to them. And as quickly as he’d arrived, as fast as the battle had come to a close, Tali was at his side with a speed that put both to shame.

And... the first thing he did was fuss over him.

It shouldn’t surprise him. A’tali Sirenia has always been the sort to worry, even when they were younger and the gap in their age seemed so much larger than it did now. What didn’t surprise him was how quick he’d noticed that he had an injury, old as it may be, unknown as it should have been after being sustained in during the fall of Dalamud. 

What actually surprises him is when Tali begins to scold him. The older brother—though Walter would readily admit he’d more than lost the right to call himself that, after having disappeared as he did—was being scolded for being reckless. 

A valid complaint, truthfully, given what his old companions had told him no small number of times. He had been a tank, after all, taking to the frontlines and drawing the enemy’s attention away from those that mattered far more in a fight.

But for Tali to scold him?

Walter’s natural stoicism drops, as does his jaw. That Tali would scold him, even going so far as to raise his voice—

“You... needed a distraction?” 

An assumption, but not an incorrect one from an outsider’s perspective. Whether it was a mistimed heal or a misjudged step, something had been going awry. Recovery had been far from impossible, but that wasn’t a gamble he was willing to make. Not when it was A’tali’s life. Not when he was right in front of him and Walter was full capable of helping. 

“Sorry...” he says after a brief pause. “It was reckless, but... everyone seems okay.”

If Tali was one of their mothers, that would definitely get his ass handed to him. 

[nascentgliint]

the world is a cruel harsh evil place *had to get out of bed*

[nascentgliint]

firexflower​:

“U-Um…” She didn’t mind the fact that he was here to instruct her - calm down, Olivia, that’s all he’s going to do - but in more ways than one, she was nervous. If it wasn’t her aversion of men, it was just simply the fact how overbearing he was being while she was attempting to be more ladylike. Then again, sewing wasn’t a strong point and she just wanted to be better at something else besides dancing.

“N-No! I’m just… very bad at this.“ It was almost said in a whisper as she halted. Her hands were already poked a lot though it wasn’t noticeable that some were slightly bleeding. “Maybe… I can watch you and you can show me how to do it better.” 

A few words and guilt wells in Heron—creeping and crippling, cold hands wrapping tight around his heart—and he leaps at the opportunity to correct not a glaring error on her part, but on his own. A grave error, one she should not be doubting herself for. A flaw all his own, the blame lying squarely with him and not the poor seamstress-in-the-making intent on taking fault. 

“No! No! I shouldn’t be... You’re not... I should be nicer about—”

He struggles with the words, a soft whining slipping past his lips that signals his frustration with himself, but a sharp sting of fear reminds him that Olivia may not take it for what it is. 

“I shouldn’t be so critical... You’re learning! I just... You...” 

He makes a motion, the same as the one she’s making every time she makes a stitch. Unlike hers, Heron’s was more practiced, easier, smoother.

“When you do this,” he says, pausing only to mimic her motion again, to emphasis the direction the needle travels with every stitch. “It... It comes really close to your face...” 

His voice is quiet as he drops his hands back into his lap, fidgeting with the uncomfortable thought it puts in his head. A prick on the finger was nothing to fuss over. It stung a moment before fading away. Even a dozen needed little attention, but when pulling a needle t’wards one’s face... Well... 

[nascentgliint]

wingspanned​:

They listened to their adorable, adorable sapling with an unbelievable patience— one offered to but a handful, for ‘twas neither in their nature nor a necessity; specially now that they hold reign over the Fae folk. Little and less would dare to go against their every wish and every command. Yet X’Kijin was special. Always had been. Always would be. Oh, how dear he was to them.

“Your mortal body is weak, frail, breakable!”, their voice started gentle and low, but the pace and urgency in the pitch raised with every word spoken. How worried they were for their mortal! Yet despite all of their complaints, they decided to settle ‘pon the free space beside the other; flying comfortably as they watched the mortal with a tug of a smile. 

“So unbelievably, utterly reckless you are! What do I do with you?” Words spoken in soft, almost playful tone with no hint of spite. A tilt of a head, a finger at their chin as if in earnest brooding. “Well, I suppose I could leave my duties for but a moment to nurse my adorable sapling back to health, should he be sick— if he as much as uttered a plea!” A short pause as they flew closer to his face; locking eyes momentarily. “What were you thinking, dreaming about? Anything fun? You must needs tell me all about it!” 

Feo Ul watched him for a moment longer ere they shifted slightly and dropped on their back, mimicking the Miqo’te. The pixie needn’t sleep the way mortals did, yet that didn’t stop them from enjoying the simplicity of sharing thus with X’Kijin.

No Warrior of Darkness nor Light, no King of the Fae folk— just a pixie and their mortal.

Weak, frail, breakable, they say. A sentiment he desperately wished was shared by the myriad of people that asked him for favor after favor after favor, whether it be the slaying of primals or being turned into a glorified delivery boy. 

Though he might not deserve their worry, it was nice that someone bothered to, so many often forgetting that he was just a man—and a piss-poor one, besides, despite being Echo-blessed. 

“I could utter a please, but what if I lose my voice?”

T’would hardly be a big loss, whether it be for him or those around him. Hells, back when this journey began, most would have been thrilled if he couldn’t speak.

But when they ask after his dreams, even mimicking the way he’s laying... 

Well, it would be impossible not to answer them, even if he wasn’t inclined to do so.

“Fishing. With G’raha, the twins, Tataru...” X’kijin says, though it’s hardly something that would qualify as fun to some. Even X’kijin could be included in those numbers, given his interest in fishing was less about entertainment and more about relaxation. “I’ve heard it’s fun in groups, but I’ve never actually tried it.”

[nascentgliint]

Hello, I exist again. I’ve been wanting to come back for a bit, but didn’t want to deal with the typical Tumblr BS that exhausted me the last couple times. So I’ve gone through my followers/following list, cleaned out even more than last time and will only be writing with and focusing on the people I know. 

I’ve already edited my rules and such to reflect this and will probably be slowly working through replies I’ve had packed away for way too long. 

[nascentgliint]

Everyone’s ♡ Festival!

Medium activity multimuse written by Esti!

Host to both original and canon muses from various anime/manga/novels/games.

Shipping of all kinds encouraged! Pre-established upon discussion.

Plotting, winging it or just general shenanigans open to most.

Just a small request to read the rules before following!

Thank you!!

[nascentgliint]

lannamused​:

“Ahh!?” The Bismarck. The bloody Biscmarck! Meiko’s gasp was quickly followed by a belt of laughter.

“Oi, shite, that brings me back – I can get you a bloody swivin’ Bismarck, fuck’s sake–” Ah, she hadn’t dropped by the Rogues’ Guild in ages, either! She’d have to do so before she left. A dismissive wave, “And we won’t even bother with your order’s particulars, if any, I already know what’s the best combination.” Thank you V’kebbe!

“Shall we?” She was already walking anyway.

Her laugh is almost enough to pull one from him, as well, loud and proud as it was. If nothing else, at least she’d found some amusement in it. 

“I appreciate your assistance,” he says, matching her pace as they walk in the direction of where he recalled the Bismarck was, though the length of time between then and now made it necessity that he follow her lead more than his lacking memory. Especially so if she had the alleged best combination. 

“With your aid, perhaps they’ll be more willing to assist. Or if nothing else, you will get a far less odd look than I.”

Viera got odd enough looks in most places. Erenville was quite sure Meiko was used to such things, as was he. But male Viera, oh, people oft looked at him like he’d grown a second set of ears. Maybe even a third. As if hitting his ears on some of the lower doorways wasn’t insult enough. 

[nascentgliint]

Cassandra Clare

[nascentgliint]

Seto ( @wingspanned​ ) : ASK

“Oh, my friend… my dearest friend. How I’ve missed you.” ( seto > ardbert c: )

It’s a strange sort of familiarity, to be able to hear the voice of one of his oldest and dearest friends, to be capable of communicating with him the same as he had the others back in the day. It only served to further prove what they’d all known all this time: Seto had been a part of their team from the first.

“Seto! Old friend!” 

The glee barely contained in every step as he approaches comes out in his voice, the shake in it giving away the tumultuous emotions in his heart. Reaching up to rest his hand against Seto’s feathered head, a smile spreads across his face with joyful ease.

“You’ve... You’ve gotten so big! And you can speak! Wish I’d known you could do that before I spilled my heart out to you as many times as I did,” Ardbert says, though the latter part of his words are a joke. Wouldn’t’a stopped him even if he had known. Seto wouldn’t have repeated the worst of them, even back then, whether it be about his frustrations with his own weaknesses or worse. “Gods, how I missed you...”

[nascentgliint]

This world is not yours to end... This is our future. Our story.

[nascentgliint]

riddlemancer​:

Ah, yes, his so-called achievement in walking on water. Lest anyone wondered; it did not end the way he had wanted to. Curse the Fuath! Or himself, really. For believing in their words and not inquiring about the details— like how the charm only worked once and even then, ‘twas only possible with the utmost concentration ( which he failed at, resulting in two wet Scions thereafter ). 

Urianger cleared his throat at the next question. “Although it paineth me greatly to say; yet I doubt any one mortal capable of such feat - mayhap through the powers of a primal only?” Truthfully, he did not research much into it… as that was of secondary interest to him. Ah, but the next one, yes, the next one was granted an easy answer. “Prithee, my friend, naught more than the comfort of the flames is required for the desired outcome.” The Elezen easily answered as his gaze drew to the small fire they had prepared in all haste. “Though… Lady Y'sthola may deliver a more desirable answer for thy woes.” While he was apt in the arcane craft, yet using the magicks to dry ones clothes did not count to his skills. 

“Let us hope the weather doth calm itself soon.” Not that he minded the situation, as a short break from their respective tasks was ever welcomed.

A heavy sigh slips from X’kijin’s lips when Urianger speaks, names is it an impossibility, unless he found a primal with such a power—though he was sure any primal trying to dry him would either make him shrivel up like a raisin or set him on fire. Possibly both, given his luck with them.

“I’ll have to ask her. She, of all people, ought to know. She’d never be caught dead with a soggy tail, much less a soaked one.”

Hells, he wouldn’t be surprised if her clothes with woven with magic that somehow prevented them from getting wet, so she could ever be the picture of decorum. And if that were the case, he needed to learn that, both for his own personal need to not be soaked and a financial one because good gods, the gil he could make if he could weave an enchantment like that.

“You’d think someone who’s studied conjury and white mage would have an answer to changing the weather,” he says, bemoaning his lack of knowledge where such things were concerned. Then again, a man who can’t read can hardly look into such spellcraft without someone standing over his shoulder to help him. “... You know Aqua Veil doesn’t even veil against water?”

[nascentgliint]

graceful-cure-swan​:

Warrior of Light. Champion of Eorzea. Hydaelyn’s Chosen. These were just a few of the titles thrust onto Tsubasa as her list of accomplishments grew and grew. It felt odd; some days she felt she might never get used to the absurd amount of titles she’d been given.

Faced with the Sharlayan gleaner, she began fidgeting with her robe without realizing it. What he was saying was correct— it was only natural to expect someone with a reputation such as hers to be more outwardly confident than she actually was.

At least he wasn’t mistaking her for a child.

“O-oh, is that so? I hope I am not disappointing you then,” Tsubasa said, the corners of her lips pulling into a somewhat sheepish smile. “It took a long while to get to where I am today. I became an adventurer in order to help people and see new places, but somehow that led to slaying primals and ending wars… I guess life is just like that sometimes, I guess!”

Although, there was a part of her deep down that loved the thrill of it all. After all, if she didn’t want to get into dangerous situations in the first place, she would have simply become a chirurgeon. 

When she speaks, Erenville finds it in him to offer her a rare chuckle. An odd concern on her part he thinks, but Tsubasa seemed the sort to worry for such things. Quiet and anxious like certain people he had gone to the Studium—and not unlike himself, at that age, who had eventually foregone further academics to become a Gleaner.

“A disappointment? No, quite the contrary. ‘Tis quite reassuring that you are more humble,” Erenville says, a gentle honesty, devoid of any complaints about those that lacked such. T’was far too early in the day to find frustration in such things. “To get where you are, perhaps. But you have done what you set out to do, have you not? Slaying primals and ending wars is a feat few can claim and it has helped a great many people.”

“Even to Sharlayan, which prides itself upon taking no sides and pursuing and preserving knowledge, the Scions could teach us much. A cure to tempering only one of many answers owed to you and yours.”

[nascentgliint]

“I volunteered to join this band at Cirina’s request, and if she thinks it a worthy cause, that is reason enough. Though we hail from different tribes, our bond has grown strong of late. She is much better company on a hunt than any of the Steppe’s oafish men could dream to be.” 

[nascentgliint]

sirenicae​:

    It was…strange, to say the least. Being thought of as a mere concept to them. Nothing more than a mandragora or…a chocobo, perhaps. It was so silly, though was it any better than being considered half an alien? She was mysterious to everyone all the same, and this wasn’t much different from the rest of her life. 

    Well, except for the rest of her life, she had been known as royalty, but still.

    “So you rather like their mystery then? How very like you~” She paused, realizing the small slip of her air of mystery, before quickly clearing her throat. “Ah, that is to say…I promise not to tell them. I would rather spare you another stressful endeavor of dearest Azem teasing you for being so fond of their tricks~”

    Already something felt so…warm about the natural conversation, and yet…as she chanced a glance over to him, she still couldn’t help but feel…unsettled. 

    “Familiar as I may be, however…I would ask…have you ever thought of bringing one into creation? I know you can be a stickler for rules, but even the most stern of men try to have fun every so often.”

“I do not care one way or the other, but the person you claim to be created by does.” 

Though it appears he’s not convincing this thing regardless—and perhaps that was the point: To frustrate him by speaking in circles. That would certainly be very much like Azem to create something so obtuse a conversationalist that it put the likes of Hythlodaeus and themself to shame. 

Yet he still does not believe its story, circular though her argument may be. The change of topic is neither helpful nor harmful, already convinced is he that this is no familiar of Azem’s. Though what it is still evades him.

“And why would I do that, exactly? I’ve no need for such a thing, especially for something as arbitrary as fun. I’ve better applications of my aether that I can partake than making anything even half as obtuse as you are.”

How ridiculous that such a thing as she existed in the first place—

[nascentgliint]

Alphinaud ( @genkifestivals​ ) : STARTER CALL

“Ah, there you are.”

He had spotted Alphinaud amidst the stacks of books, piled high on either sides of the table. Erenville had to wonder if they all had been pulled from the neighboring shelves by Alphinaud or if some had been abandoned there by others, left to be reshelved by those attending. 

“Lady Leveilleur asked me to find you to remind that you were supposed to be home in time for dinner—which you are not, I imagine, given she asked me to give you my ‘best neutral face of displeasure’. I would do as asked, but I fear I... do not quite know what she is referring to.” 

‘Tis hardly neutral if one is displeased, after all.