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a handful of mundane subnautica gameplay moments i felt were greatly enhanced by the songs i had playing at the time

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#FFxivWrite2024 - Day 23: On Cloud Nine

The Crystal Exarch was a patient man. He had grown to be. He had no other choice. 

Yet even still, he felt himself becoming restless. He rocked back and forth on his heels. He drummed his fingers against his staff. He could not pull his eyes away from the towering crystalline mirror before him—even though at present, all that was displayed upon it was a dim, gray circle, flickering in and out of focus. It was a tenuous connection, but it was something.

It had been days since he had finally made contact with the Warrior of Light. 

While of course there was no “day” or “night” as such to judge it by, the Crystal Tower had its own devices for marking the passage of time. And the Exarch had watched every single hour elapse as they happened. He could do naught else.

Lyna was doing a fine job of limiting which visitors were allowed to call upon him, but, of course, some business was too urgent to ignore. With what scant few meetings were unavoidable, he found himself barely present, glancing back at the mirror frequently, probing the rift with his aetheric senses between every exchanged word. When business concluded, he resumed his post, keeping vigilant watch at the nothingness.

Surely, she should have found the beacon by now, yes?

He reminded himself that she would require time. 

Cringing to himself, he considered that she probably even required time to wake up. After his numerous near-misses had summoned her companions, his latest attempt had succeeded in finding her… but only her consciousness. Thank the gods, he had been able to return her to her own body, but he could only guess at what her recovery from such an ordeal might require.

In the moment of that encounter, he had been forced to improvise. He needed to both figure out how to more precisely find her, and to convince her to stop resisting his call. He could not risk bringing her to the First in an incomplete state—what he planned to ask of her would require her whole being. And besides… Norvrandt was running out of time. 

He could not keep failing like this.

He concocted the idea of the beacon mid-conversation with her. While traversing the rift was unimaginably complex, and rife with risk besides, sending something—something small, something inanimate—should be within his means to achieve. It would give him a simple target, one he knew intimately. The beacon would be easy for him to find. And thus, so would anyone who took hold of it.

And if the Warrior of Light went and sought it out, then it would mean she was agreeing to meet him. Something in her will would be reaching out to his. That should be enough to bridge the gap he himself had been unable to surmount thus far. 

But since he had come up with the idea in the very short time he had with her, he could only offer to her the vague concept of “a beacon” and a location. It was up to him, after he had already sent her back, to determine what that should be. After scouring his quarters in the tower for something, anything, that would look like “a beacon” and not “a random Allagan artifact”, he had settled on the medallion of the Ironworks. He figured it would look immediately recognizable, but clearly out of place, hopefully warranting closer inspection.

He could only pray it was obvious enough. 

He glanced at the tower’s internal chronometer again. Another hour had gone by. With the Source’s timeline in near-equivalence to his own, the waiting felt that much more agonizing. He wondered if this was going to work. He wondered how long he could afford to give her before he had to try to summon her again, with the aid of the beacon or without it. He wondered if he had accidentally teleported the blasted thing into a wall.

What would he even do if she…

Hold on a moment.

The image on the mirror flickered. Of course it did; it had been for days. But something seemed different. Distant as it was, the beacon only allowed him the smallest and dimmest glance into the Source, but he thought he saw—was that motion?

He poured all of his concentration into the mirror, straining for anything to tell him more. Had someone found it? Was it who he hoped it was? He heard voices, distant and muffled. He could not make out words. But it struck a bell of recognition from something far, far in his past. Come on, come on…

And then he heard her.

She was there.

He began a quiet, frantic spell, trying to grasp the beacon itself, trying to sense its surroundings more thoroughly. He detected a warmth. Then he detected a presence. Sigils and arcane formulae spun into visibility before him in the Ocular, patterns of light floating in space, describing the beacon’s surrounds. Most of it was an indistinct, muddied mess, too far outside of his recent efforts to clearly register anything legible. But there. Bright and in the center. That was what he had been trying to lock onto through the rift these five years.

“Now… now I have you,” he gasped, as he reached out to that aetheric signature. He grabbed hold of it. A surge of power rushed through him as the magic connected.

Gods, but her will was strong. He tugged, but was unable to pull. He felt her wresting herself away from his grasp—on instinct, he had to assume. She would not have the beacon if she was not willing to answer him. Those muffled voices he had heard all began speaking at once, sounding concerned. 

Talk her through it, G’raha. Help her not to panic.

“Stay with me,” he begged her. “Focus on my voice!”

He had no idea how long this window of opportunity would last. He felt the resistance tentatively relaxing. He had no time to lose. He went straight to the incantation.

Let expanse contract, eon become instant… throw wide the gates, that we may pass!

He cried aloud as he pulled with all of his strength, trying to achieve what he had yet been unable to do: bring an entire person through the unrelenting barrier of the rift.

The interior of the Ocular flashed. A rush of aether.

Then it was quiet.

Panting for breath, he drew the arcane sigils back into the air, and reached out to the Source once more. He found the beacon there… but not the Warrior of Light’s aetheric signature. He dismissed the spell, and began anew, casting his senses into the rift. Please be there, please be… THERE. She was on her way.

“YES!!” he shouted aloud, quite against his better judgment. He briefly thanked the gods that the Crystal Tower walls were so thick. He could scarcely see straight—partly from the exertion, but mostly from the relieved joy. It had worked! After so much waiting, and the sacrifices of so many people, it was happening. He barely knew what to do with himself. He paced eager circles in front of the mirror. He allowed himself another shout of triumph, which echoed around the circular crystal of the Ocular as he shook his fists in the air.

“We have done it, my friends,” he whispered to a generation far in the future and on a different world. “There is hope yet.”

Dear gods. It had worked!

He pulled his cowl low over his face and fought to catch his breath—a difficult task, given how his heart was racing. The thrill of success mingled with a boyish joy for soon being reunited with his long-time hero. He had imagined that starstruck part of him to have long since gone dormant, but no, here it was, giving him butterflies and causing him nearly to forget himself. 

This is not a reunion; it is a first meeting. You are not G’raha Tia; you are the Crystal Exarch. She is not your hero; she is THE hero, the hero of the Source, and that is why you have summoned her. You must stay calm. You must reveal nothing. Pull yourself together.

He exhaled several slow, deep breaths, readied his staff, and assumed the posture of a dignitary. He was grateful that the journey through the rift took some time. It gave him a moment to collect himself. This was good. He was ready. He waited for her to appear before him.

…And waited for her.

…And waited, with increasing concern.

He searched the rift with his magic once more, and did not find her. He reached out to the beacon, and only found that gray nothingness once more. Trying not to panic, he spun around to the mirror and began searching his own plane. THANK THE GODS. There she was, clearly displayed, slowly peeling herself off the ground, looking as if she was shaking off a massive headache—and surrounded entirely by lavender trees.

Oh no.

Still coasting on the adrenaline, the Crystal Exarch spun on his heels, and sprinted for the door.

[sasseebeee]

basically in december 2019 the mozilla company (who run firefox) sent tumblr an email saying “hey this guy is gonna confuse people and make em think this blog is official” so they sent me an email telling me to change my username. i resisted for a bit but i gave in and changed it to unofficial for a while until may 2020 when i decided who gives a shit and i changed it back

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HEY GUYS I JUST GOT AN EMAIL ABOUT TRADEMARK ISSUES FROM TUMBLR I—

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list 4 of palestinian fundraisers (compiled 21/09/2024)

(list 1) (list 2) (list 3) (link 5)

@farahmohanad2 // gofundme // vetted by @/gazavetters (numbers 42) // raised: $2,833/35,000

@yousef1234567 // gofundme // currently unvetted // raised: €2,340/50,000

@ahlam910 // gofundme // vetted by @/gazavetters (number 73) // raised: $185/50,000

@alaakh998 // gofundme // vetted by @/ibtisams and number 307 on butterfly project // raised: €12,388/100,000

@asmaamajed2 // gofundme // vetted by @/90-ghost // raised: $10,061/50,000

daily click for palestine | at the very least share these fundraisers and donate if you are able to.

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g’raha tia based off that one image of jonathan bailey

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Everyone say: we are sorry, Alisaie!

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i hate (love) ffxiv because the writing adds layers of complexity to the story that wouldn't work anywhere else. but here it fucking works.

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people who put their gum under tables are wild animals they literally do not have higher level cognitive functions. they live in nature.

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playing erdtree with my pal we get invaded by someone named "Drip Inspector" and im like "waitwaitwait. ok lets just pose leaning back to back and wait for them to show up maybe our outfits will be so good they wont kill us"

so we wait until they show up and then they get reaaaal close to us . and then pull out their telescope and start circling around us and zooming in for a good 30 seconds. then they clap, use the "wonderful" and "youre beautiful" prattling pates, and jump off a cliff. invader vanquished

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had a good delivery this week

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started trying to make a little toy house

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