#Yimir Estinoch

[catnip-smuggler-radio]

Accountable Science: Part 7

Tray knelt, holding his dead son to his chest in his tattooed arms.  He rocked back and forth as tears rolled from his eyes.  Sobs chocked his throat as he held the motionless form of his young son.  He squeezed him as tightly as he could, hoping beyond hope that some miracle would give life to those still limbs once again.  “Please.”  Tray chocked out as he pressed his cheek to the pallid flesh of Yimir’s face.  “Please don’t take my baby boy from me!”  He wailed, shuddering.  “Please!” All Tray could do was see in his mind Yimir as a young boy, laughing and running around after a chicken, thrilled with life.  The memory made Tray wail louder, his heart cracking in his chest. “Bring him back to me!” Tray looked up and pleaded to the Twelve.  “Give me back my son!” His only answer was the wind’s mournful tone as it blew.  The sound made the smuggler shudder and he hunched over, his body shaking as he sobbed in broken despair.

[jorrussciences]

Accountable Science: Part 4

What is the measure of a life? How would the world think back on her? Would the world even bother too? No…she realized.  It wouldn’t. The girl vomited, blood splattering her chin and throat as she wheezed.  She tried to suck air down her throat but could feel and hear it escaping from the ruined cavity of her chest.  The slugs from the shotgun had rent her lungs and ribs into a ghastly ruin.  Tears left her eyes but no one could see them.  The heavy rain that was falling washed them away.  All the woman could do is gaze up at the grey skies that seemed to be crying for her. A face suddenly filled her vision.  A pleasant enough face.  But she wanted to tear out those rabbit ears.  To shove them down his throat.  To hear him choke.  But the only sound was the falling rain as he looked down at her with a look of reserved acceptance in his golden eyes. Jorrus hadn’t come here to kill this woman. He’d come to kill Tray’ju Estinoch. But no one had been home. And when he had turned to leave, he’d seen this red-headed woman arriving.  He’d known at a glance whose child she was. And she had sensed his motivations.  They’d both gone for their guns.  Jorrus had been faster.  And now he’d ended her life. Her brain was just a little late on the uptake.   He stepped over her body as she lay in the yard, clinging to life.  And he said nothing.  There was no need for words.  He turned and began to walk away down the narrow street as distant thunder echoed in the grey skies. Meanwhile, Tray’s adult daughter continued to look at the heavens, wondering if this was her reward for her own sins.  It was almost ironic in a way. She’d come to try to make things right with her estranged father.  And even then, the world seemed unwilling to give her a small degree of joy in her life.  She seemed destined to leave this world as she had lived it: discarded. She swallowed once.  Twice.  And the last thing she saw was her bothers face as he scooped her up in his arms and held her as he wailed. No. Not totally forgotten. Not anymore. And with that final thought, her life ended in Yimir’s arms.

[repose-and-run]

Entropy

Today should have been a rainy day. It should have been thundering and pouring, with winds from the Ruby Sea blowing everything over. It would have reflected my mood, honestly. But no, the air was calm, the sun was starting to rise over the horizon, and there was this perfect little breeze.

I always learn time and again that nothing ever goes the way you want it to. Just when everything seems like it’s playing in your favor, just when you feel so untouchable, invincible, and everyone around you has a smile on their face, someone or something always finds a way to rip it to shreds.

In one hand, I was clutching Yimir’s letter. I need to find him. I can’t risk losing more. In my other hand, I was clutching a pair of dog tags hanging from a chain. I had gone back to where the sniper had shown up, where all of this started and had found it on the rooftop where I assume the sniper had been hiding. I don’t know. Everything was and is a blur.

The name on the dog tags was what shocked me most of all. “Estinoch”. It was what brought me back to this place, back to the bamboo grove where if I had just gotten here a little bit earlier, I wouldn’t have lost him.

My breath was coming out shaky. There were still bloodstains on the grass from yesterday’s battle and the torn up terrain from where Hojo had stood. I’ll kill him one of these days.

But I push that thought to the back of my mind because I came here for one reason and one reason only. Before I could help it, I was staggering over to the pile of clothes and bloody earrings that sat on a rock, just like how they had been yesterday. The sight still makes me sick to my stomach and I found myself dropping to my knees and gathering the pile into my arms.

And then I was crying. I was a mess. Everything was pouring out at once; anger, sadness, bitterness… You name it. I never could control my emotions well. And now? It feels like a storm, threatening to destroy anything that stands in its way.

My older sister always had this weird obsession with the idea of “entropy”. It was a philosophy she lived by. She believed that everything moved from order to chaos, from chaos to order, in a never-ending cycle. It’s probably how she stays so calm all the damn time. If she was order, then I was chaos.

And chaos is what I’m going to bring to Frandrin and anyone who gets in my way.

----- Aftermath of an awesome Sweepers RP I had with everyone, from Haname’s point of view!  (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

[catnip-smuggler-radio]

Candlelight: Part 4

“Ye did what?!” Tray looked both worried and outraged at the same time.  It was honestly really impressive his face could twist like that!  The large, red-head sunk his nails into the wood of his desk as he gazed with intense eyes at his son, who was standing across the study from him, his arms crossed. How different they seemed.  Tray, topless and in only yoga pants, Yimir, dressed in a grey-silk robe inlaid with onyx silks forming wonderfully complex formations.  The father, a seemingly outraged yoga instructor and the son, a seemingly zen healer for a Yakuza. “After everything we have been through!” Tray went on.  “I did everything, EVERYTHING in my power to keep ye from this sort of lif eand yet ye plunge right into it!  I...ye wanted to be a doctor!” Tray looked at his boy, and Yimir saw worried tears dancing in them. The blonde grunted and scoffed. “I was plunged intuh dis life from de day ye went fer Frandrin’s head.” Yimir scolded his sire sternly.  “I ain’t had a choice since den.  I mean, I wanted tuh be a accredited heala, but when Ul’dah got a bounty on yer head simply cause who yer pops is, makes any legal ambitions bit hard, don’t it?” His tail twitched and the bells tied in his hair rang as he shifted his weight. “I..”Tray started.  “Yimir, don’t do this. This is not what I wanted for ye!  I tried to give you a-” “A what?” Yimir growled.  “A normal life?!  Oh yeah, bein’ raised in a fuckin’ orphanage funded by yer pops instead of actually gettin’ raised by him is REAL normal.  Havin’ tuh clean up yer puke and vomit after yuh came home pissed was normal!  I been more adult den ye since mum died and ye know it!  And now dat yuh suddenly have Haname in yer life yuh dink ye suddenly get to be muh father.  Well ye neglected that duty and I done with it!” The father and son glared at one another for a long time in awkward silence.  Yimir could see he’d just hurt his father more than he’d known and when he saw silent tears running down Tray’s cheeks, it actually made him pause, wondering if he’d gone to far.  But Yimir recalled his life and grunted. “This is muh life, pops.  I makin’ muh own calls.  An’ I frankly, dun care if yuh don’t like dem.  Haname can babysit yuh now.  I’m done doin’ it.” Yimir shouldered his satchel, full of the last books he had left here in his father’s office.  He turned and opened the door. “Yimir!” Tray called after him.  “Yer being a fucking idiot!” “Well it runs in the famileh don’t it?” Yimir snapped back, slamming the door behind him. Tray stood there, staring at the door.  The male swallowed the lump in his throat before he flopped down into his chair.  He tried to pull out a joint but couldn’t bring himself to smoke it.  Rather, he let it fall to floor as he put his head in his hands, and cried. “Ye fucking idiot.” Tray sobbed softly. He felt tears running down his palms before he did something he had not done in years.  He prayed. “Twelve...please keep him safe and bring him back to me.” He closed his eyes and sniffed. “Please.”

[catnip-smuggler-radio]

Candlelight: Part 3

(Fight between Haname and Yimir in true fighting game style.  Hope you all enjoy! :D  Warning, long. Lol.  As always Haname is @repose-and-run char) Yimir rose from his feet and studied the man before him.  Not a bell ago, the man had rested at the feet of Nald’thal, ready to enter the god’s domain of death. The man in question was an old regular of Yimir’s, back before he’d entered into negotiations with Ostreaux about working for the elezen’s organization and his alone.  Yimir would be joining a organization for life and he was still uncertain what he’d do; but for now he was here, aiding an old friends soul.  A soul that was not for collecting today.  Yimir had pulled the man from the great beyond and allowed him to live a bit longer.  Yimir took a long sip of water from a flask.  The effort of healing the man’s wounded form had taken a lot out of him and he was weary now.  He slowly pulled his grey robe up over his bandaged arms and shoulders.  The healer looked at his own, bandaged hands and marveled at how someone as insignificant as himself somehow could keep life inside a ruined form through will and aether.  Did he defy the Wheel of Fate, or was he a part in its great machinations? He doubted he would ever know.  He glanced out the window of the small apartment that overlooked Pearl Lane.   It was night already…

The night was dark and full of terrors. Not really, but it was full of crime and shady individuals. The Masked Moogle crouched atop an old, rundown building in Pearl Lane, face hidden behind a Magitek mask and Moogle katana strapped to her side. She wore a gaudy white coat and boots, true to her namesake, and what looked like a Moogle plush dressed as a Taoist floated around her. She didn't have her signature pigtails. No, that'd be way too obvious. After all, how many other grown women wore their hair in pigtails? Not many. It was the perfect disguise. The mask she wore warped her voice and hid her aetherial signature. And the outfit she wore was way too flashy and cool compared to her usual wardrobe. She was a real vigilante now-- No. She was a superhero, stalking the alleys of Ul'dah to fight crime.

"He'll need a few days rest an' den needs tuh take it easy all healed up meow." Yimir said as he stepped out the door of the small, building into the Lane. "Just keep him relaxed." With that, the blonde shut the door and turned to walk down the street. He was dressed in a white, cotton shirt over which was a large, grey robe and a polished, leather bandolier across his chest. Thigh-high leather boots covered brown riding pants and a large yellow-and-black plaid scarf was wrapped around his neck and lower face. He moved slowly, keeping an eye out for any patrolling Blades. They were a rare sight around these parts but anyone moving in the lane past sunset was up to no good.

The Masked Moogle noticed movement from the corner of her eye. She tapped the side of her mask and the screen of it zoomed in to the area she turned her head towards. She couldn't quite make out a face due to the large hat and scarf, but she knew the area well enough back in her moko smuggling days where each crime den was. And that was definitely a crime den. She looked the suspicious figure up and down, and judging by their conversation, he was probably a medic. Getting up from her crouched position, she followed after the man from the rooftops, pausing only to send her Moogle companion out. The Moogle plush fluttered down and twirled happily around Yimir, its little Taoist robes fluttering in the desert breeze. "Where are you going, kupo? What have you been up to, kupo?" It asked in its irritatingly adorable voice. "My name is Gohan, kupo! You look suspicious, kupo!"

Yimir stopped and waved his left arm to shoo the moogle away. He couldn't believe he was running into a moogle of all things! What was the world coming too? "Begone ye little one." Yimir ordered in a mildly annoyed manner. Certainly he felt no threat from the intrusive creature as they were known to be silly drunks more than anything else, but the creature was loud and could garner him some unwanted attention. "I ain't done nuttin' but take a walk. Shoo!"

 "Ain't done nuttin', kupo?" Gohan quoted, floating down so it was almost nose to nose with Yimir. "What kind of nuts, kupo? Kupo nuts? There were some shaaady men back there, kupo. Ah! Watch out, kupo!" And then Gohan zoomed off, flying several feet up into the air above Yimir. The distraction was provided and the Masked Moogle leapt off the building right above the blonde Mi'qote, nearly landing on top of him with her katana drawn. "Alright, kupo." She said in a low voice, which really wasn't needed since her mask warped her voice to a much higher pitch anyways. "Hands up in the air. I know what kind of shady business you've been dealing with, kupo. I need you to come with me. Peacefully." She paused. "Kupo." She added to the end.

 "I said buzz off ye-" Yimir's ears perked as he heard something above him. He couldn't tell what it was but his tail poofed in a sign of danger and he leapt backwards, pulling a small kukiri made from bone out of his robe. He landed on both feet and tensed his entire body as he held his weapon at his side. He peered at this new arrival as if it was a coiled viper. There was no joy in his mismatched eyes as his tail swished behind him. The vigilante's words further soured his impression of her. He had no intention of complying with her orders and he spun the dagger around a finger by its o-ring. "I dun know who ye are, but I ain't goin' anywhere with yeh. So either ye move out de way or...we gonna have ourselves some trouble."

Yes Yimir. Sound tough. You are sooo badass.

 "Heh, so you really won't come peacefully then, huh kupo?" The Masked Moogle said with a small tilt of her head. "Well then.." She sheathed her sword. "I am the Masked Moogle, Champion of Justice!" She struck a pose. "In the name of the Mog, I shall punish you!" Another pose. Was that necessary? No, but she had been wanting to do it for a long time now and what better opportunity to than now? She held the pose for a moment longer as Gohan slowly descended back down, shaking its big, fat Moogle head.

 The blonde male stopped spinning his knife, almost cutting a finger off as he stared in dumbfound wonder at the woman's posturing. Was...was this for real? Was this seriously happening? Was this person really challenging him to a fight while acting like a gosh darn moogle and posing like she was a power ranger? He blinked and it took him him almost a minute to manage to form som sort of reply. "Are...are ye for real? Ye seriously want...but…Do ye do this often or sumfing? First time? Cause aint heard of ye." FIGHT BEGINS! QUE MUSIC!

"Hah! And clearly your first time if you've never heard of me, kupo!" The Masked Moogle was bluffing. But she had been down Pearl Lane enough times to know she had never seen this loser around before. And the fact that he hadn't straight up shanked her. "You're as green as they come, aren't ya kupo?" In a flash, she drew her katana again and well... threw it straight at his head.

Yimir had been expecting her to do something. -Throwing- the gosh darn katana, however, HADN'T been near the top of that list. He was saved by muscles and sheer instinct alone. He leaned back, flailing his arms behind him and sensing the world in slow motion as if he was dodging bullets in a video game. The weapon sailed over his head, the blade gleaming along it's polished edge in the moon's light. The healer watched it sail a mere ilm over his nose. And then it was gone. Yimir pulled himself upright and stood there, honestly surprised his himself and actually thanking his dad for making him do yoga. He was very bendy. But his wonder didn't last long. He glanced at the woman and clicked his tongue. Using his aether, he connected with the elements instead of his normal spells. His holy flames would be too obvious. Instead, he waved his hand and a gust of wind blew down the Lane and tried to slam into her feet and knock her onto her butt.

The gust of wind was strong. But not strong enough! The Masked Moogle had been hit by things worse than a little gust. Like boulders, shovels, and angry Highlanders. She butterfly-kicked into the air, doing a little spin like a Moogle would. Speaking of Moogle, Gohan was chanting "fight, kupo, fight, kupo, fight, kupo" the whole time. Landing on her feet again, she raised her hand and whistled. Unbeknownst to Yimir, her ridiculous looking katana was Magitek -infused and came boomeranging back around towards the back of Yimir's head a second time.

 Yimir twirled his kukiri a few times and had taken a step forward when the pommel of the katana smashed into the back of his head. He jerked his head forward as a loud thwack filled the air from the impact. He used his free had to hold the back of his skull as he glanced between his golden locks at the bizarre sight. A magical katana... This was turning into a very weird evening. "Alright buttercup." Yimir muttered, rubbing his sore skull as he stood up. "Let's wrap this up." Yimir snapped his left hand. Two chains of gold would spring from the ground like twin pythons and try to wrap themselves around her torso and pin her arms to her sides.

"Hah! Not today, 'cuz I'm not here to stay!" The Masked Moogle rhymed as she leapt up just in time for the chains to miss snagging around her. She paused briefly and added, "..Kupo." She caught her katana midair and dashed forward in an attempt to shoulder-tackle the Mi'qote with.. well, not quite full-force since that would be a dead giveaway, but with at least strength to knock the air out of him if she landed a hit.

"Oh great, and it rhymes." Yimir muttered as the moogle warrior came at him with her weapon drawn. Her bravado how made it clear what her goal was and he simply side stepped her raging charge. As she ran past, he very casually stuck his foot out to trip her.

"KUUUUPOOOOOOO--" Followed by a loud, audible thud as the Masked Moogle fell face first into the ground and with the speed she had been charging at, she tumbled several feet away. Her mask nearly slid off from the accident as well but fortunately, she had her back to the medic and quickly adjusted it before ripping the Moogle adornment on her katana and promptly hurling it at Yimir. It made a little 'kupo' squeak and as it sailed through the air, the Masked Moogle pressed a button on her mask. Soon after, sparks of lightning began to fizz out from the ornament. If it successful in landing on the blonde, it would send him into quite a shock! Literally.   Yimir was very smug as he heard the vigilante eat it on the stone street. Not that he looked. No he turned his back and began quickly shuffling away, eager to put this odd person and their moogle obsession far behind him. This desire for an expedient exit, however, proved a poor idea. A few moments later, he sensed the electricity behind him. The hair on his tail poofed again and he yelped out loudly: "Don't taze me bro!" But, alas, Haname did not listen and the blonde was tazed. His entire body convulsed and his muscles tensed. He collapsed in a heap as the moogle adornment bounced away.

"Hehe! Watt did you think of that, kupo?!" Horrible puns are horrible. But that didn't stop the Masked Moogle. "That one was on the house, no charge! Or maybe there was a charge.. of the shocking kind, kupo!" She laughed obnoxiously and proudly at her first feat as a superhero, dishing out justice and puns in equal measure. Stepping forward, she picked up her Moogle adornment and attached it back onto her katana before reaching down to drag the shady looking medic up by the back of his scarf and attempting to snatch off his hat to get a better look at her victim.

"What's going on here!" came the call of a tall, broad hyur. A moment later two armored Brass Blades clanked around the corner and into sight. They had been drawn by the sounds of illegal justice. Yimir looked at them with grateful eyes as he wiggled away from Haname as she tried to pull his scarf away. "Officers!" Yimir wheezed. "Help! This crazy person assaulted me!"

"Officers! I'm just doing my due diligence here in helping enforce the law, kupo!" The Masked Moogle claimed, loosening her hold on the scarf though she didn't quite let go of Yimir yet. "There was some criminal activity here, kupo! Arrest this Mi'qote!" Gohan floated itself around, adjusting its hat. "And if worst comes to worst, kupo, officers will make some nice bail money!" The plush piped in.

The hyur and lalafel looked at the scene, then one another, then the two unaware family members. They drew swords and pointed those pointed ends at duo. "Alright you weirdos. I don't know if you are Quicksand fuck buddies or fighting for gil or what, but both of you, drop your weapons, put you your hands in the air, and we'll go down to the station and sort this all out nice and easy. Sound good?" Yimir did not think that sounded good. Not at all. Seriously. He'd just gotten a big ol' Yakuza tattoo on his arms and was willing to wager things would not go well for him. Especially seeing as this was technically terf belonging to a different 'Little Star' and might rub some of his superiors the wrong way, supposing he lasted long enough for word to get out. Brass Blades did have their reputation after all.

"Officers, you got it wrong, kupo! I'm a good person, kupo!" The Masked Moogle threw her hands up defensively. Somehow, she knew it'd go something like this. After all, she had dealt with plenty of Blades before, on Frandrin's payroll or not. And with this knowledge, she knew this would not go down well. She quickly gave another whistle and suddenly, crashing down from the rooftops came a Magitek motorbike. It vroomed and roared and she hopped onto it without a second thought and promptly zoomed off, leaving the Mi'qote to fend for himself.

Yimir covered his head as the Brass Blades threw themselves aside as the bike slammed down onto the earth. A roar of the engines and a moment later the mysterious kupo crusader was gone. Yimir, coughed as a blast of moogle exhaust hit him as he got to his feet. He took a few steps when one of the Blades blew a whistle. The young miqo'te groaned as he turned and waved his hands. A powerful sleep spell slammed into both Blades. But it was too late. Even as the pair of Blades fell over in a heap, the sounds of incoming boots could be heard. Eager to not be here when the Blades arrived, the blonde took off down a long hallway that entered the palace. Soon, the male vanished among the many long, weaving corridors, left only to dwell upon his very strange evening and the very strange silly person out hunting down criminals.

[jorrussciences]

Accountable Science: Part 6

Storms. This island was full of them.  But for all their fury, for all their power, they paled to the storm of hate and rage burning in the eyes of a young, blonde miqo’te standing several meters before Jorrus on the dirt road.  Harsh winds slammed into them both, drenching them in the torrents of falling rain as the storm pelted the island of Limsia.  Around the pair, the fields of long grass swayed violently.  Jorrus’ gold eyes met this young man’s mismatched orbs of hate and furry and the viera gave a low, slow sigh; his breath leaving his lips as a fog on the cold air. “Why!” Yimir screamed as he clenched his fists. His heart was rage and pain.  His sister was dead because of this man and he didn’t even get to know why.  “Why did yuh kill muh sister! What did she do to ye?!” Jorrus said nothing.  He only narrowed his eyes and tensed his body for the conflict that was sure to come.  The silence enraged Yimir further and his eyes flared with a golden light as his aether ripped through his body.

“I’ll kill you!” Yimir bellowed as he summoned his magics and hurled a ball of golden fire at Jorrus.   The viera threw himself into the dancing grass and was lost to sight.   Thunder boomed above the pair as the fireball smashed into the fields and ignited the soaked grass.  Steam and smoke began to billow as Yimir advanced slowly, conjuring more globes of golden flames to his hands as he walked. “I’ll kill ye. I’ll end yer life for what ye did tuh muh sister!” he howled over the shrieking wind.  He could sense the aether of the man.  The man would die. He would burn and suffer the way his sister had. He would… The man’s aether signature vanished. Yimir blinked in confusion and he hurled both balls of fire at the spot Jorrus had been.  Twin columns of fire erupted as the balls of ather impacted the earth.  The golden flames began to eat through the fields.  The steam grew heavier as the cold rain turned to a thick vapor on contact.   Yimir strained, his aether sweeping the fields but could not find a sign of Jorrus.   All he saw was waving seas of tall grass. Anger grew with frustration and Yimir began randomly hurling balls of fire without regard, turning the fields into infernos, chocking the entire area with smoke and mist. “Where are ye!” Yimir shrieked, half mad with anger and grief as he looked around wildly.   Jorrus said nothing as he suddenly emerged from the nearby grass, his shotgun leveled at Yimir.   He fired once and there was a small, gold explosion as a tarot card from Yimir’s deck flew free of his pocked and intercepted the round.  Jorrus fired again, and another card blocked the slug.   The miqo’te spun, digging his heels into the earth as went to make another ball of fire.  Yimir saw the bracelet on Jorrus’ left wrist glowing and suspected -that- was why he could not sense Jorrus’ aether.  Jorrus leapt, swinging his shotgun like an axe, using the axeblade bayonet to its intent. Another tarot card parried the attack, but Yimir had to step back to avoid the blade.  Another swing from the axe was parried but it nicked Yimir’s ear and he felt hot pain as the tip was severed.  Yimir was on the defensive now as Jorrus began his advance, his axe moving with a frantic speed.  Tarrot card after tarot card vanished in a blaze of gold under the assault of Garlean steel. Each card saved Yimir’s life but the miqo’te’s robe was a ruin and blood coated his chest from a multitude of cuts. Yimir needed a moment, just a moment!   The storm raged above and the flames grew closer as the winds blew the hungry tongues of fire about in all directions. Yimir felt his last tarot card leave his pocket and he panicked.  He had nothing left!  In a terrified moment, he lunged forward, his hands burning as he tried to seized Jorrus’s gun.  The weapon bounced off the last card and right into Yimir’s hands.  Jorrus gasped as the weapon began to melt instantly and he took a step back as he let go. Yimir tossed the weapon down, orbs of fire in his hands.   He had the murderer now! Yimir went to throw the fire and- A gunshot rang out.  Yimir jerked still.  His eyes stared, suddenly unseeing.  He swayed uneasily and then a gust of hard wind blew him onto his back.  He slammed down and his eyes gazed up at the sky. But he saw nothing.  The flames died in his hands and the bullet hole in Yimir’s head began to fill with blood and water. Jorrus lowered his revolver as he panted heavily. Despite the cold rain, he was sweating profusely from his assault and his lungs burned from inhaling the smoke of the burning fields.  He looked a the dead miqo’te at his feet and gave a small sigh. “What a waste.”  Jorrus remarked soflty.  Another of Tray’ju’s brood dead for their father’s actions.  Jorrus hadn’t come to kill of an entire line, just the sire.  The viera approached the lad’s corpse and began to search the body.  Papers, inks, and a few letters. These were not the possessions of a normally violent man. Jorrus chewed his lip.  He found a few pearls and pocketed them.  The flames came close and Jorrus hefted the dead Yimir onto his shoulder before he began a slow retreat. For nearly a bell Jorrus walked until he came to a small, wooden pavilion beside the road.  He slipped beneath it and lowered the body to the wooden floor.   Jorrus leaned against one of the low railings and watched the rain fall as he pulled out the pearls and began to try them one by one, asking for Tray.   Eventually he got his man. “Who is this?” came a voice that sounded very relaxed.  It wasn’t what Jorrus had been expecting.  At all. “My name doesn’t matter.” Jorrus replied. “What does is that I think it best we meet before I kill any more of your children.” “What?” Tray stammered, shocked by that claim. “I did not stutter, Mr. Estinoch.” Jorrus said, his voice calm but harsh.   “What…I..who the fuck are ye!  I..I swear to the gods if ye hurt Yimir, I’ll kill ye!” “The blonde boy?”  Jorrus asked, looking at the body at his feet. “Yes…” Tray’s voice broke and Jorrus had to pause.   “You know the crossroads north of Limsia?” Jorrus inquired in an almost gentle voice. “Yes…” Trays voice was a chocking sob. “I’m leaving his body there so you can give him his last rites.” Tray broke down wailing on the other end of the line and Jorrus had to swallow again.  He took no joy in this. “Why, ye son of a fucking bitch, why?!” “Because the world is at war, Mr. Estinoch.” Jorrus explained slowly.  “And you played a part in that war when you killed Frandrin Mandrin.  Did you really think the Empire would let that go unpunished?” “I’ll kill ye! I swear to the fuckin’ twelve I’ll-” “Bury your son and daughter first, Mr. Estinoch.  I’ll come by to kill you afterwards.”   Jorrus dropped the pearl and crushed it beneath his booted heel as Tray continued to swear and sob.  Jorrus turned and looked at Yimir’s body.  He knelt down and closed the still open eyes.  He was silent and still for a few minutes before he pulled the boy’s hood over his head and face and then rose, stepping back into the storm and vanishing like a ghost in the torrent of rain.

[catnip-smuggler-radio]

Candlelight: Part 5

Yimir was laying on his back in his room in Ishgard. He was gazing up at the ceiling, hands behind his head on the pillow as his right leg cross over his left knee.  The room was illuminated only by the light reflected of the mountains’ snow.  Music from a small, magitek box filtered out, filling the space with their steady, almost otherworldly sounds.  The blonde had his eyes closed and  he breathed slowly; vibbing with the tunes. He was lost in a slide of memories, thoughts, hopes and dreams.  The future lay ahead of him but he somehow felt tied to the past by weights he couldn’t shirk.  Despite his outward actions, that same noble child he’d been still lived inside him and was almost angry with him for what he’d done to his family.  And how he’d turned his skills for healing towards something aimed at profit. Where are your noble goals of fixing the masses?  his inner voice said.  Yimir knew his goals were still the same.  He was still going to cure them. But he needed gil too.  And his father had ruined his chance at gaining legal assets.  So he had to turn to this. And to be fair, the Buraddisunō Group  wasn’t like his father’s organizations.  This was a group run on principles and rules, where things mattered.  And the rigid structure felt like a welcoming home to him.  Certainly as an Eorzean he’d need to prove himself and bear a small stigma among the those at the top, but so far, he’d integrated with his few associations well. His pearl buzzed and his eyes opened. He moved a hands to his ear and activated the pearl. “Hullo dis is Yimir Estinoch.” “Estinoch!” came Ostreaux’s warm voice. The elezen was truly the definition of charismatic.  He inspired loyalty and excitement in his employees easily and it didn’t take much thought to understand why his boss entrusted the entirety of the Buraddisunō Group’s business in Coerthas to him. “Red Lantern Ostreaux.” Yimir said calmly, ensuring the elezen’s title was used as a sign of respect.  “Tuh what do I owe de honor?” “Work matters I’m afraid.  Y’Nata and myself have been speaking and we are withdrawing her from your side and entrusting your education to another employee.  We want you to meet with them south of Ishgard in a small safehouse.  There is a job underway in the area and your skills might need to be utilized there.” Yimir wiggled his nose as he sniffed and sat up. “Just give meh de location and I be on muh way.” Yimir answered, shifting and climbing out of bed.  He began to dress for the mountain chill as Ostreax explained the location and gave the name of his new handler.  As Yimir, now dressed in cold wear, headed for the door, the elezen asked: “Any further questions?” “No sir.” Yimir answer as he flicked off the music box. “I expect to hear good things, Estinoch.  Till then, May your snows be pure.” “And our foes’ deep” Yimir finished the formal goodbye for the organization and slipped out the door to his apartment, locking it as he went.

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Candlelight: Part 1

“You Yimir Estinoch?” “Well shyte its gonna be dis kinda day, ain’t it.” Yimir muttered under his breath.  Slowly, he turned his head to look behind him.  Down the cobblestone road a dozen feet or so stood a pair of individuals. The first, a tall, willowy hyur with raven-black hair and eyes the color of dying embers, took another step forward.  His posture seemed innocent enough, but the large collection of knives he wore was certainly threatening.  The elezen’s companion, a short, scar-covered miqo’te dressed in attire that would make even a concubine blush, shifted her weight; her right hip cocking out slightly as she leaned against a tall spear in her left hand.  Her blue eyes gazed at Yimir critically. Yimir flicked his tail, the trees around them waving in a light breeze.  The smell of cooking fires from the surrounding homes of the Lavender Bed’s filled his nose and he might have been hungry, if he wasn’t suddenly so focused on the pair of souls standing before him. “Ye, I be him.” the blonde answered honestly, figuring lies wouldn’t help him much.  “What ya be wantin’?” “To hire you.” came the elezen’s reply.  Yimir paused and blinked, unable to hide his surprise.  This had not gone where he had been expecting and he reached up to scratch his goatee as he took a moment before he replied. “Huh...what fer?” Yimir asked, his thick, Limsian voice cutting a harsh contrast to the elezen’s almost melodic tone. “Few night ago, you healed someone in my organization, without any questions asked.  Word is, you’ll heal just about anyone regardless of the reason.” Yimir sniffed.  So, they were illicit types.  Figures. “Maybe.  Maybe not.  Who’s askin’-” “I’ll pay you a thousand gil a week to work on staff for me.” the elezen said suddenly.  “In our line of work, I need people that don’t ask questions.  And apparently, you’re pretty good at it.”   Yimir mulled that over.  Since his falling out with his father and his...to be step mother...Yimir had been sleeping in gutters and random, low rent hotels when he could afford them  With a regular salary, he’d be able to put some roof over his head constantly. And, if he was healing up thieves and thugs, what did it matter to him?  They had a right to be healed like anyone else. The blonde was silent for another moment and then nodded at the female. “Alright, but only if that one gets stuck havin’ tuh body guard meh.” The female narrowed her eyes and twitched her tail but said nothing. The elezen laughed awkwardly. “Well...I suppose...why Y’Nata here?” he asked. “She looks good.” Yimir shrugged.  “And further, she looks like she would skin a child if asked.”  “Planning on skinning many children?” the elezen asked jokingly. “Maybe.” Yimir replied.  Immediately both elezen and female miqo’te stared at Yimir in stunned silence. Internally, the blonde was chuckling to himself.  He had zero intention of ever breaking his Hippocratic oath, but illusions were best made upon first introductions. The elezen looked at Y’Nata and then Yimir. The female clearly was less than pleased with this idea and when the elezen nodded and spoke, her ears went flat and she shot Yimir a dirty glare. “Done.  Though I’d consider Y’Nata more of an insurance policy on my end than yours.  Shes still -my- employee.”  He paused.  “As are you now.” “We’ll consider it tuh be contract work.” Yimir mused. Somewhere in his mind, his noble soul warned him to cease this.  The blonde waved it aside as he strolled forward and took the elezen’s offered hand in a firm handshake.  He had spent twenty winters suffering at the hands of his father and his legacy.  It was time he created his own.

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They Are Calling

At the ‘Missing Member’ in Limsa, Yimir sat alone at a table with a half-empty glass of lemonade and a deck of tarot cards.  The young man’s hands slowly moved cards from his deck one by one.  But he wasn’t divining a future.  He was playing a game of Solitaire and doing rather well.  His blue and lavender eyes blinked slowly as he took another sip of his cool beverage. “You offering your services?”  came a voice suddenly, breaking the miqo’te’s train of thought.  Yimir looked up as a hooded figure sat down across the table.  Yimir immediately tensed and reached into his wellspring of aether as he prepared to summon forth a blast of golden flame.

“Ah ‘fraid Ah jus’ playin’ a game today.” Yimir responded polity, forcing a smile to his lips as he spoke in his thick, Limsian accent.  In that moment, he looked as he was: his father’s son. “Just as the Twelve play games with us?”  came the hooded person. Their body was wrapped in thick rags and it was impossible to tell anything about who or what they were. “Ah don’ think we’ve met.” Yimir commented slowly, flipping over a card from his desk.  ‘The Tower’ greeted him. The image of the tower ripped apart by lighting made him wonder if the deck had begun divining without his consent. “No, we haven't.”  the figure answered ominously.  “But your father is going to die. As is Haname. And all the others unless you do something to save them.” Yimir felt his stomach knot and he swallowed as he placed ‘The Tower’ card down. “Who are ye!” Yimir snapped, his voice cracking some as he prepared his aether attack. “We are what you need.  We are truth.  We are power.  We are safety.  Your family and friends are rushing to their own demise.  You know this and you are the only one still sane enough to prevent their suicides.  But you are not strong enough.” “Ah-” Yimir stammered, blinking in confusion. He did not have his father’s quick wit for retorts. “How many times have you put them in danger?  How close did Haname come to dying cause of you?  Your father?  Those that died at the orphanage to protect you?  And yet you couldn’t help.  You wanted too.  Tried too.   But you’re too weak.  We can make your strength as mighty as the nobility in your heart.” “How do ye know this?” Yimir inquired, stunned by the words this person was saying. “We see much, child.  We know. We care about this world more than the Twelve, or any other thing.  We want to make the world better. We need those with noble hearts to do it.” Yimir swallowed and then reached for the deck.  He was so shocked and rattled by this moment, he couldn’t think clearly.  What was he to do?  Was this person real?  They knew so much. Could they really offer... ‘The Emperor’ greeted his eyes as the top card flipped over in Yimir’s hand.  He stared at it and then looked at the figure.  The card represented power, authority, and wisdom. The absolute ruler of the world.  The deck was talking to him, Yimir realized. “Does the deck speak to you?” the figure asked, almost smiling with it’s words as if it knew what he had drawn.  Yimir licked his lips. “And what does this power cost me?” Yimir replied softly, nervous at this display of supernatural authority. “Simply that you aid us in helping this world.” the voice explained simply, tenderly.  “Much needs to be done.  And in return, we shall give you the power to save your dear ones.” Yimir flicked his golden tail.  He chewed his lip.  He was tempted.  He’d have been lying if he said he wasn't.  A chance to aid his family?  To help the world?  To have the power to do it.  He almost agreed.  But his father’s words echoed from the back of his skull: Every deal has a negative. And if the person making it doesn’t tell ye upfront, it’s a shit deal.

“Seems like there is no negative.” Yimir added after a few moments of silent thought.  The miqo’te reached for his deck again. “Only the labors and stresses of fixing this world.” the figure said calmly. Yimir’s fingers hovered over the deck.  He swallowed and drew two cards. One for the deal. One for himself if he agreed. The first card was ‘The Sun’, symbolizing a world renewed in blood and a new future.  Though for better or worst was always hard to tell. The second made him pause.  ‘The Fool’, with its giddy face, looked at him.  A sign of idiocy.

A strong wind blew and tossed the cards onto the floor.  Yimir looked up at the figure. “You don’t need cards to tell you the future.”  the words were kind but held an edge, as if the deck had disobeyed.  Dread returned to Yimir’s mind as he rose to his feet and stepped away.  “You can make your own choices.” “Ah want ye to leave.” Yimir ordered, chewing his lip.  “Please, Ah just want to finish my drink and play my silly card games.” “Very well, Yimir Estinoch.” the figure said, rising to it’s feet.  It gave a bow.  The wind that was slipping inside from the open door made their clothes dance widely.  Still, Yimir could see nothing of the person’s features.  Just darkness beneath the cowl  “We shall be watching you.  And please know as you return to the dark, evil world, our offer remains.” Yimir watched as the entire world suddenly faded to black.  He writhed as cold, dark things pressed in around him.  He screamed as he dug inside himself and let a massive explosion of golden aether erupt free. And then he awoke.  He panted, thrashing at his sheet as he feel onto the floor with a  thud.  He scurried across the floor and hit something. He shouted and jumped to his feet as he looked down. His father was passed out drunk on the floor of their apartment.  He was snoring loudly and stunk of booze and moko as always.  Yimir stepped back and then sat on the bed.  He took several long breaths. “Just a dream.” Yimir reassured himself, looking at his sleeping father.  “Just a...” he paused, recalling what Tray had told him about Pheli and the others.  His heart froze and he swallowed.  Had that thing in his dream been...Them? Or was it all just a dream? @the-faceless-ffxiv @smolcatte

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Yimir Estinoch

Been playing with making him for awhile, finally fantasiaed him in game.  So now Tray’s young son can baby sit all of his elders as they go and break themselves.

I swear he’ll remain pure....I swear it... ;_;

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Supply and Demand: Part 3

“So, Chows, are we gonna be ready to start makin’ our first couple runs in teh next few weeks?”  Tray asked as he and his one-time-time-valet-now-turned-business-partner walked slowly down a weedy, overgrown road between the wild collection of overgrown, Gridanian foliage. “On my end, we will be.” the older miqo’te commented, glancing at his younger companion.  “Once you sign off on the driver I’ve hired that is.  Otherwise, the documents for ‘Moon Shine Deliveries’ are complete, and the wagon and birds will be ready.” Tray flicked his pierced tail and grunted.  “Look, Chows, ain’t dat I don’t trust yer judgment on shit, just, I dunno.  Was a sixteen-year-old kid really teh only driver ye could find?” Tray glanced over at his grey-haired companion and the cane he used to help him along. “From what I’ve seen of his racing skills, and from our conversations, he seems to be exactly what we need:  eager, adventurous, knowledgeable on chocobos, and cheap, like our current budget.” Tray sniffed and wiggled his nose. “I know. I still need to speak with teh Khan an’ Jak ‘bout dis venture but wanted all teh cogs in place ‘fore I did.  I’m hopin’ dey’ll direct some of dem Bluesky coffers towards dis once I explain it and maybe get a solid delivery done so dey can see our profit margin.” “Well considering you implied some of the Bluesky would be acting as security for these deliveries, let’s hope you are right.”  Chows and Tray rounded a bend and could see a collections of buildings in the distance. “Speaking of your yakuza family, how did the Gothic-themed party go the other night?” Chows inquired. “Ugh.” Tray grumbled, running an hand through his dyed-black hair. 

“That well, hmmm?” Chows lightly laughed. “Yeah, dat well’.” Tray started. “I sense a ‘but’ coming on.” Chows mused. “Aye.” Tray nodded as he stepped over a fallen branch.  “Dis lass named Eiai I am acquainted with got drunk and wild.  Was a party after all, nothin’ new.  But she went steppin’ up at one of meh Bluesky family an’ things got tense. An’ I may have threatened to cut off her hand if she ever threatened on of meh people again.” “Fiery disposition.” Chows mused.  “But was to save face.” “Yeah, well based on a chat last night, sounds like I pissed some folks off.” “You? Making enemies? Noooo.”  Chows snorted, almost sarcastically as he chuckled.  “They gonna be a problem?” “The messenger I got last night implied I had burned bridges an’ if I stepped wrong, they would be one.  So meh plan is to just avoid ‘em.  Dey wanna get mad cause of drunken words an’ straight up foolishness, dat’s their waste of energy not mine.” “That’s one of the most mature and level-headed reactions I think I’ve ever heard from you, Tray.” Chows commented with mild, pleased surprise.  “Two years ago, you would have been on a war path.” “Well, I’ve done some growin’.” Tray admitted.  “An’ I got someone dat expects better out of meh den dat.” “Well, I have expected better for years.” Chows smirked. The pair of miqo’te reached the small collection of buildings and headed for a small set of stables that sat on the outside of the village.  The smell of chocobo’s hung heavy in the air as the entered.  A single wagon sat in the middle of the stables.  There were four stalls, one in each corner of the building.  Three of the stalls held a dozing chocobo.  The fourth stall was open and full of reigns, saddles, tools, and a young, red-haired miqo’te youth currently attaching a set of spurs to his boots. “Vren.” Chows greeted the young male warmly and the young miqo’te turned and fixed Tray and Chows with a sheepish grin as he quickly rose to his feet.  “Chows, I, good morning!  And you must be Mr. Estinoch.” Vren said, clearly both nervous and excited as he stood there, holding the boot in his hands.  His nervousness grew as Tray’s one, blue eye squinted at the younger man.  He could feel Tray’s gaze scanning every inch of him. Vren gave a nervous chuckle and licked his lips as Tray turned to whisper softly to Chows: “Where ye find dis kid?” Tray said, in a hushed tone. “He comes from Vesper Bay.” “Uh huh.  An’ ye clearly have noticed who he looks like...” Tray commented, glancing back at Vren. “Part of why I hired him.” “Any chance there’s a connection?”  Tray flicked his tail. “You tell me.” Chows commented casually and Tray gave him a dirty look. “I see yer game, don’t think I dont, Chows.”  Tray grows softly before turning towards Vren and took a sniff. “So, Vren.  Chows says yer a chocobo racer.” “I am, sir.”  Vren stammered, twisting the boot nervously. “Ye driven many wagons?” “Often, sir.” Vren nodded several times. “Ever been in a fight?”  Tray asked.  Vren seemed a little surprised. “A few, sir.” “Ever killed a man?” Tray cocked his head. “What, no!” Vren blinked in surprise. “Been arrested for any crime?”  Tray’s eye grew more intense. Vren shook his head.  Tray grimaced and looked at Chows.  He was about to speak but Vren interjected. “Sir, look I know that you’re a mostly legitimate business that’s planning on using it to move moko down south.  Chows told me.  I understand I’m not your ideal candidate, but I can make any run faster then any other driver and can tend to the birds better then anyone else.” Tray paused, looked back at the youth with his mismatched eyes and red hair and then winced as he looked away. “Chows, he can tend to the birds. Pay him for that. But I’m not putting a child on these drives when he could get hurt an’-” “Sir, I am not  a child!”  Vren exclaimed.  “Sir, please.  I have no where else to go and need this!  Chows said he’d sponsor my racing in exchange for making these runs.  I’m not even making gil off of this work.  Please, let me do this!”  Tray refused to look at the boy as he looked towards Chows. “He can do this.” Chows said, having clearly taken a liking to the boy.  “He can make our runs -and- help us launder like we planned with his races.” “He’s a child. One who is potentially in harms way in the driver’s seat.” Tray warned. “And you weren’t when you where harpooning whales at his age?” Chows reminded Tray of his own youth.  “I won’t risk another Yimir situation.” Tray hissed.  “Then see too it he has guards on his deliveries.”  Chows replied sternly.  “You hired me to run things here while you do your duties to Bluesky, and I hired this man to do a job and -will- use him.  So you want to see him protected?  Do your part.” Tray paused.  It wasn’t often Chows’ got stern and put his foot down. He was normally willing to let Tray run about freely.  But when Chows did bring out his old, military bearing, Tray knew there was no changing the older man’s mind. “Anything happens to him, dis is on ye.” Tray clicked his tongue as he looked back at Vren, who was still holding his boot, both defiant and nervous. “Alright, kid.”  Tray ran his tongue over his teeth, studying Vren’s features one last time.  “Ye get -one- trial run.  Ye fuck it up, ye come off teh wagon and stay here tendin’ to teh birds.  Understood?” Vren nodded his head too fast to speak and Chows tried not to laugh at how comical it was.  Tray grunted and exited the stables to give Chows and Vren time to talk. Once outside, Tray went for his moko pipe but paused.  He looked down at the pipe in his hand, and then put it away.  He needed to think, not blur.  He had to talk to Jak,and get some guards on the delivery.  It was no longer an options.  He wasn’t about to have the blood of another kid on his hands. Especially one that looked like Vren did.

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웃: three people that are important to my muse

First would be his son.  Even though  Yimir is no longer among the world of the living, the young man was for a long time the wiser and more mature of the two Estinoch’s.  Tray’s bastard from birth, the boy became almost an idol to Tray and proof to himself he was able to do good.  Even now, he considers things he does from how he knows his son would act and Tray’s sudden maturity is a result of a loss so deep. Second isn’t a single person, but a group of people that made up the ‘Sweepers’ leadership that served under him before the triad collapsed.  They were all instrumental in their own way in aiding Tray’s rise to power and even now, has an intense loyalty for them all. Last would be Haname.  His former protegee turned partner in crime, this disingenuous, bloodthirsty, yet naive girl entered Tray’s life and became his right hand in his climb to power.  She was a springboard for his acts and he would butcher the world for her if needed as she often did for him and his goals. (Thanks for the ask!)

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A Parting Letter

Hananme, By the time you read this, I will be gone.  I know I should have told you and the Sweepers I was going; but after seeing you last night screaming for my father in panicked desperation, I’m afraid that if I’d told you, you wouldn’t let me leave.  I have to do something.  Something that will hurt Frandrin badly.  I would tell you, but I know you or Lord Apa would hunt me down and either help or stop me.  Neither are things my father can afford.  He needs you both now more than ever, so focus on rescuing him and don’t worry about me.  I will be fine.  I will be thinking of you all and praying for your success in bringing my father home.  Miss you all already. With all the love and respect I have to offer, Yimir Estinoch

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Yimir Screens

Some Screen shots of the Golden Boy.  Gotten to play him past two days and it’s been a blast.  Got a real feel for him. And his RP’ing him reading Tarrot cards has been awesome. Looking forward to more! :D @repose-and-run @chantokahkol did you two really have to make him cry though? XD lol