#Keimwyda Sylbdhemwyn

[kootiepatra]

Current mood: waiting for that GP to regen on the relic grind

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So I saw the following extremely good question on the Bad Site…

Buuuuuut BRD does not have a gap closer. Quite the opposite, in fact.

Which is why this has never happened but I had to gpose it anyway…

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Wolmeric Week 2024 - Day 1: Holiday

Have too many angles of them. Because I care they, and they deserve a break.

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Martial Artist's Vest brainwyrms. I had to.

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"Hello again, mother... It's been a while. I have something to show you. I think you'd like it."

Keimwyda's mother was a gleaner, so it meant a lot to Keimwyda to receive a set of gleaner's attire.

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I mean.

I had to.

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Hands

(I blame @neauxwai and their very good musings about Aymeric’s hands)

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Fluffvember “Day” 20 - Time

(Please imagine an AU where she would not perish from mortification at the thought of this, thank you)

Q: How many people does it take to get one (1) lord commander to go home and get some rest?

A: Two, provided one is big enough.

Bonus shots:

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This is Keimwyda’s preferred method for handling the Moonfire Faire jumping puzzle

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#WolmericWeek2024 - Day 7: "I Love You"

No story today - just vibes ^^

(Not me working on camera angles and realizing I accidentally stuck them right on top of purple and blue again)

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#FFXIVWrite2024 - Day 1: Steer

“Everything all right up there?” Wedge called.

Keimwdya was leaning back in the pilot’s seat of the magitek armor, having relinquished hold of the controls with all the speed and vigor of someone who had just laid a hand on a hot stove.

“Keimwyda?”

“Fine, I think,” she answered, as she willed her heart to stop racing. “Just… a bit startled. Was it supposed to do that?”

The two Ironworks engineers who were assessing the machine’s repairs looked at one another in brief confusion.

“Was it supposed to do what?” Wedge asked.

“Lurching like that?”

“You barely moved it,” Biggs replied. “Everything looks fine from down here.”

Keimwyda bit her lip and looked back at the control panel in front of her. Warmachina. She didn’t like these things. She never had. Experiencing them up close did nothing to warm her opinion. She found no fault in Cid’s scheme to infiltrate Castrum Centri—it was a good plan—but that did little to ease her discomfort.

Her homeland, the Black Shroud, was far from renowned for their battlecraft, preferring to avoid conflicts if at all possible. But when fighting proved inevitable, their weapons—the kinds Keimwyda was used to handling, or even to seeing—were of simple, reliable make. They were wood and hide and feathers and flint, and for some, they were still-living branches. They were light; they were silent. Weapons they may be, but it was not hard to understand them through the lens of instruments of protection and defense. They were of the woods, and they fit well in the woods.

Not so the Garlean machina. Their polished dark metal was all harsh lines and angles. Their cerulean lights cast a haunting, unnatural glow. They were big, they were heavy, they were clumsy, and they were loud. Their mere approach sent small cloudkin scattering into the sky in a panic. Their gunfire was even worse. While Garlean advances into the Twelveswood had been few, and never made it very far—undoubtedly Gridania could thank the elementals for that—every incursion left a trail of broken underbrush and torn earth, with burn marks and bullet trails scored into the trees. Every aspect of these contraptions served one purpose, and one purpose only: to destroy.

But even leaving aside her misgivings about the machina overall, Keimwyda had never before sat astride anything more complex than a chocobo. And while the birds were not exactly the smoothest ride, and could be unpredictable in their own rights, if you were kind to them and fed them they at least had some incentive not to kill you. 

She was not confident of the same for this armor.

“Try it again,” Biggs instructed her. “We need to see it in motion. Just a quick turn around the workshop if you please.”

Keimwyda took a breath, rallied her courage, and placed her hands back on the wheel. …Then took them back off of it again.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do this part, Wedge?” she asked. “You’ll be piloting it for the mission, after all.”

Biggs frowned. “I need his eyes down here. Unless you’ve somehow managed to become an engineer in our absence.”

There was nothing for it, then. Keimwdya chided herself for her reluctance, took hold of the controls, and began to very gently ease the throttle lever forward.

Nothing happened. She pushed it a little further. Nothing continued to happen. Further still—and then three lumbering strides, far faster and more abruptly than she felt like should be possible. She instinctively yanked the lever all the way back, forcing the armor to shudder and halt.

“Why did you stop?” Wedge asked.

“It just felt… I mean… I’m sorry, I’m not sure I’m cut out for this.”

“Listen, friend,” Biggs said, his patience audibly beginning to flag. “Where we’re going, you can’t afford to be scared of a little piece of armor.”

“I am not scared, not exactly. But I’m not used to this. And I don’t want it to accidentally hurt someone. Or break something.”

“It’s a machine,” Wedge assured her. “It will only do what you tell it to do. You are in control.”

Keimwyda grimaced. “...I’m sorry. It didn’t feel like I was.”

Biggs rubbed his eyes for a long second. Then he clambered up the footholds along the side of the machina, and reached over to the control panel. “All right,” he said. “For peace of mind. Let’s go over this once more. That wheel is how you steer—turn it right to go right, turn it left to go left. The harder you steer, the sharper you’ll turn. That lever is your throttle. Only stop it dead if you are sure you are about to crash. And that gauge there should always be between the green line and the red line…”

Keimwyda went quiet, embarrassed at herself. It had been but moments ago that Biggs had gone over this the first time—and indeed, she remembered it well enough. Nothing struck her as so complicated that she should not be able to do it. But gods, it just felt… bad.

…Though perhaps not as bad as knowing she was giving headaches to the Ironworks crew. Pull yourself together, Keimwyda.

A few minutes of review and reassurances later, it was time to try again.

“Easy does it,” Wedge reminded her as the machine began to whir. “Gently on that throttle—and when it starts moving, stay calm and let it ride.”

Keimwyda didn’t realize she had been holding her breath until it all came out in a gasp as the armor once more lurched forward. But she managed to restrain herself from killing the engines this time. Step by lumbering step, the armor began its march across the mostly-empty room.

Biggs’ face was a picture of relief. “That’s it! Now soon, get ready to turn…”

It was not the smoothest maneuver—Keimwdya pulled the wheel far too hard to the right, and then briefly overcorrected to the left, before feeling her way back to the center.

“It’s more sensitive than you think,” Wedge observed, a little too late to be helpful.

Keimwyda said nothing and only nodded as her knuckles began to whiten on the wheel.

The tour around the workshop went largely without incident after that. The armor was trudging along at the lowest speed it could (though Keimwyda would have preferred it even slower). Steering began to come more easily. She even began to get a sense for how to let her body relax into the uneven movement of its stride—and, in fact, its rocking, bobbing motion was not entirely unlike that of a chocobo. 

…A giant, ponderous, extremely loud chocobo.

She still didn’t like it.

But when she pulled up to a much gentler stop at the conclusion of the test run, there was no denying the triumphant air in Biggs and Wedge’s manner.

“That looked good to me,” Biggs grinned. “What about you?”

“Smooth as Nagxian silk!” Wedge agreed. “Everything looked stable—no shaking or buckling. We have ourselves a fully functional suit of magitek armor!”

Keimwyda felt a slight warmth of accomplishment despite herself—though, on the whole, she was mostly relieved it was over. “That’s it then?” she asked, beginning to extricate herself from the cockpit without entirely waiting for an answer.

“Aye, aye, we have what we need,” Biggs replied.

“Although…” Wedge began. 

Keimwyda paused.

“I should like you to practice a little bit more. Perhaps at a slightly faster speed.”

This was an answer she neither expected nor wanted. “I thought you were going to be the pilot for this mission?”

“Oh, yes, I most definitely am,” he rejoined quickly. “I would have it no other way! But, it would be good for you to be comfortable at the controls all the same. You never know what might happen out there.”

There was no mistaking the skepticism in Keimwyda’s expression.

Wedge’s resolve wavered. “Ah, well. It’s just…”

“It’s probably not a bad idea,” Biggs conceded.

“See?” Wedge beamed, confident once more. “Who knows? Knowing how to pilot our girl Maggie might even save your life one day.”

Keimwyda resignedly sank back into the pilot’s seat with a sigh. 

I doubt THAT is ever going to happen.

[kootiepatra]

Just gotta cram in lots of gpose crime before the sundering

I MEAN gotta get in lots of snuggles before Tural

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RoevemberXIV Day 17 - Night

Any time she visits, Keimwyda still gets a bit emotional about nighttime on the First. (So do I)

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#WolmericWeek2024 - Aymeric Day

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#WolmericWeek2024 - Day 6: Reunion

I must stress that this is very much entirely *not* canon, and not even a developed AU, but…

…if this was how things went down, then this would have been the first time she saw him (conscious) since she realized she had fallen in love with him.

[look, I haven’t given them an in-canon “omg I thought I’d never see you again” moment so I had to spin up an “Aymeric Also got Yoinked to the First” AU for one]

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#WolmericWeek2024 - Day 5: Time Apart

It is *great* for Keimwyda and Aymeric that the postmoogles can find her wherever she happens to roam. He doesn’t even have to know where she is (and he often doesn't).

…it’s *usually* great for the moogles.

[click to expand if you need to; these may be A Time for mobile users]