#chocobo heaven now

[luis-e-sierra]

"Seventh Heaven's Chocobo Special" (2024) Now in a different aspect ratio, and with several hours more than what was needed.

[icycoldninja]

Beauty Day Headcanons for the First Class SOLDIER boys!

A/N: I have always imagined the 1st class bois doing a beauty day with their S/O cause why not? They're beautiful. 💅💄

♡ Sephiroth♡

-Let's start with skincare. He's not that into skin cleansing with creams and whatnot, but will definitely put on a face mask, especially if it's Moogle or Chocobo themed.

-He will allow you to put on some eyeshadow (see pic above, not mine btw) and maybe some foundation, but lipstick is out of the question because he risks getting it on his hair.

-LOVES to have his nails painted, especially black and white. I mean come on. Why do you think he wears gloves? It's to hide his shiny, glittery nails from everyone. Paint his nails for him once and you'll find it turns into a tradition. Every weekend, you two end up sitting at the kitchen table, painting each other's nails different colors, trying out new patterns and designs. Too bad his nails have to be kept short so he can fitght or he would have long-ass coffin nails by now.

-You want to brush his hair? By all means, go right ahead! Sephiroth is a living Rapunzel; to have a beauty day and not play with his hair would be to miss out on a golden opportunity. He loves it. You love it. Everyone's happy.

-What about hairstyling, you may ask? Well, he is in EUPHORIA when you braid his hair (it's soooo relaxing) and likes to have you help him tie it into buns, pigtails, ponytails and whatnot. At the end of the day, he ends up looking like a really big, muscular kawaii girl. ✌️🩷❤️✌️

☆Genesis☆

-LOOK at this man. A total pretty boy. It's likely that you were introduced to beauty days by him, and that he dragged you onto the makeup/skincare/shiny things bandwagon.

-Will wear literally anything you want him to, eyeshadow, lipstick, blush, facemasks, cleansers, you name it, he'll let you put it on his face. That can be interpreted many ways, don't sue me for your dirty minds

-Fingernail painting? He's fine with it, but he's more into pedicures because his hands get scratched up more often than Sephiroth's do.

-When it's time to paint the footsies...hoo boy. His toes are very ticklish, so you have to pinch 'em just so or he'll be wiggling and giggling, and then his feet will end up covered in nail polish and there'll be a huge mess in general.

-Like Sephiroth, Genesis enjoys getting his hair done. He'll let you wash it, style it, tie it up into little pigtails--he's basically your living Barbie doll.

-All in all, beauty days with Genesis are lots of fun. Sometimes you guys turn on a rom-com or drama and do each other's hair while watching it. ❤️

■ Angeal ■

-Aight, this man is different from the rest. He's not that into makeup, but he will don a little blush and guyliner if you ask him to.

-Angeal's preference is skincare, believe it or not. He wants the whole package, face masks, cleansers, lotions, hydrating soaps, etc. Being in S.O.L.D.I.E.R. means you have to leave for missions often--you don't get much time to maintain your skin. As a result, Angeal is now a skincare addict and relies on you to teach him how to use the products properly and help him establish a solid routine.

-Bonus points if you buy him one of those cute headbands to push his hair back. Imagine seeing your beefy boyfriend parading around the house with bunny ears and a pink sheet mask. Adorable.

-Another thing he enjoys is massages. Yes, you read that right. Coming home from an exhausting mission and being met with a warm bubble bath and then a relaxing massage? That's his kind of heaven.

-Also wouldn't mind giving you a nice full body massage as a reward afterwards. What did I tell you about double meanings, like jeez ?

[babiepupp]

⋆୨୧˚“Love and Flowers” ˚୨୧⋆

Caregiver Aerith and regressor Cloud! ❤︎︎

˚ʚɞ˚

What a perfect day to pick flowers! The sun was shining its warmth down onto the grass, the rain from earlier on leaving the plants with shining dew, and there was the hint of a rainbow peeking its way out of the formerly gray clouds.

“Come along, little chocobo! We don’t want to keep big sis Tifa waiting!” Aerith trilled as she skipped down the worn cobblestone, gesturing for the ex-SOLDIER to follow her. It had been her turn to babysit, and she wanted the blonde to get some more fresh air- it would be good for him!

She flashed her signature smile at Cloud, watching as he trundled down the path, a slightly sour look on his face.

“..Coming..” he grumbled, after a particular fussy morning (and a nightmare of a diaper change), he wasn’t in the best of moods.. to put it lightly.

He adjusted his worn gloves, holding onto his basket as he breathed in the scent of the flora, scoffing to himself as he knelt down besides a patch of roses.

It had been Aerith’s idea to come pick flowers, she had stated that Seventh Heaven needed a bit more colour, and the flowers would surely make a nice touch.

Aerith stifled a giggle, amused by the image of the battle-worn soldier, picking flowers for his friend. She resisted the urge to pinch his cheeks. Despite the fact that Cloud was always rather grumpy, even when small- her and Tifa loved their baby brother endlessly.

She knelt down beside him, humming a small tune as she reached for some daffodils, an idea forming in her head.

“Ooh! We could theme this bouquet after us! Red roses to represent yours truly, white lily’s to represent Tifa, and yellow daffodils for you! That way, no one’s left out.” She grinned, giving Cloud a playful poke on the cheek, earning a small scowl.

“Whatever’s fine. It’s up to you.” He shrugged.

“Lighten up a little, sweetheart. Tifa’ll be concerned if you come back all moody.” Aerith retorted, putting down her basket and grinning, tickling the soldier to try and earn a grin.

Cloud tried to keep a stony expression, squirming slightly- but it only took a couple of moments for him to burst into laughter, dropping his basket as he squirmed, trying to bat the florist away from him.

“Enough, Aerith!” He shouted between fits of chuckles, not missing the smug grin that formed on Aerith’s face as she leant back.

“There we go! You look so much cuter when smiling, Cloud.” She smiled, before noticing cloud’s knocked over basket, the flowers spilled out onto the cobblestone.

“Uh oh.. let’s get these flowers back into the basket before something happens.” She started, hurrying to put the flowers neatly back into the basket.

“And don’t trample them!” she warned as Cloud stood up, his boots dangerously close to a nearby rose.

Cloud chuckled, raising his hands in surrender as he took a step back out in caution.

“I won’t, I won’t..” he murmured. He nodded in thanks as Aerith handed his basket back to him, holding onto her hand happily.

“Now, let’s go show Tifa!” He chirped, beginning to drag Aerith away with surprising strength.

“—Ack! Cloud, you’re going to pull my arm out of its socket!”

What had started off as a tough day, had soon become something rather enjoyable.

Hopefully the nice weather would last! ❤︎︎

[akihabaradivision]

Glory or Dust - (Otaku Corps Ver.)

[Keiko:]

I spit wisdom like scrolls inked in ancient lore

Learn from our blunders, rise higher than before

Mistakes are stepping stones, paving our path

Knowledge is the currency; let's do the math!

Friends by my side, like Naruto and Sasuke

Bonds unbreakable, stronger than a jutsu

Anime worlds collide, our hearts ignite

In this life's epic saga, we script our own fight!

Spit out all your emotions

You'll find every reason

Right here to lay it out in the open

Even if our bodies are ground to dust

We'll spit in the face of the heavens

No limit to our ascension

How many reasons do you have by now

To be a chicken and drop out?

Win, steal, make a get away

Let out everything built up inside

A fearsome fight against those on high

Hypnosis Mic

The spark that binds rhyme and rhyme

Is focused and refined by our minds

[Criss:]

In the shadows I roam, seeking truths untold

Paranormal whispers, secrets to unfold

Ghosts dance in moonlight, cryptids in the haze

I'll unravel dimensions, pierce through cosmic maze

EVPs echo answers, orbs flicker bright

My pen's my Ouija board, I write into the night

From Roswell's debris to Bermuda’s triangle

I’ll chase the enigma, unravel the spectral tangle!

Spit out all your emotions

You'll find every reason

Right here to lay it out in the open

Even if our bodies are ground to dust

We'll spit in the face of the heavens

No limit to our ascension

How many reasons do you have by now

To be a chicken and drop out?

Win, steal, make a get away

Let out everything built up inside

A fearsome fight against those on high

Hypnosis Mic

The spark that binds rhyme and rhyme

Is focused and refined by our minds

[Nikki:]

In this mundane realm, life's grayscale hue

Concrete jungles echo, skies a faded blue

But my mind's a playground, where pixels ignite

I level up in dreams, where fantasies take flight

From Hyrule's green fields to Rapture’s abyss

I dance with Chocobos, wield the Master Sword's kiss

Web-comics weave tales, pixelated and grand

In this virtual symphony, I find my wonderland

Spit out all your emotions

You'll find every reason

Right here to lay it out in the open

Even if our bodies are ground to dust

We'll spit in the face of the heavens

No limit to our ascension

How many reasons do you have by now

To be a chicken and drop out?

Win, steal, make a get away

Let out everything built up inside

A fearsome fight against those on high

Hypnosis Mic

The spark that binds rhyme and rhyme

Is focused and refined by our minds

Spit out all your emotions

Your resolve is already broken

How do you live with yourselves

Acting like you’re above everyone else?

We’ll spit in the face of the heavens

No limit to our ascension

However weak and fragile they may be now

They won’t stand down

A catastrophe, a rewritten story

Mightier than the pen and the sword: Hypnosis Mic

The spark that binds rhyme and rhyme

Is focused and refined by our minds

[salternateunreality2]

Sefikura's Awkward Dates, Part 3: Sephiroth Asks Cloud Out

Since @snowbanshee asked ❤️

Sephiroth had prepared for this moment for months. He was ready. He walked up to Third Class Strife and took action.

"Strife, go out with me."

"Sir! Right now?"

Sephiroth was surprised it had worked this well and this quickly. He was nothing if not adaptable, though.

"Yes, this way." He spun on his heel, gesturing to the younger man, who followed unquestioningly.

It was a good thing Sephiroth had worked hard with his friends to come up with date ideas and pickup lines beforehand, now he was prepared for anything.

"Did it hurt?" asked Sephiroth.

Cloud tilted his head.

"Did what hurt?"

"When you fell from heaven?"

"Uh, Sir, are you calling me the devil?"

"Hmm, I suppose that would be a reasonable interpretation. Forget I said anything," said Sephiroth, already trying to remember the next pickup line as he strode down the street. Cloud was quiet, no doubt pleased with the situation. Sephiroth loved Cloud's quietness--he was so calm most of the time, but had the biting wit of Genesis, the stamina of Zack, the gentleness of Angeal, and a fire all his own.

------

Cloud trotted along next to Sephiroth, not exactly struggling to keep up, but having to take two strides to every one of Sephiroth's. He seemed happy and energetic about something, but hadn't deigned to share with Cloud. Oh well, the day was nice and Cloud'd take any chance to be alone with his crush, even if it was for some weird impromptu patrol.

"I was missing vitamin U," said Sephiroth, suddenly.

"I'm sorry," said Cloud, unsure of what to say. His understanding of vitamins was rudimentary at best, and he had no idea what a SOLDIER of Sephiroth's caliber might need. It was usually a bad thing to have a vitamin deficiency though. His response seemed to satisfy Sephiroth, though, so he just shrugged and kept trotting.

-----

Sephiroth beamed inside. This was going great. Only one botched pickup line! And they were almost to the restaurant!

Genesis had suggested a very high-end place, with a dress code and too many forks, while Zack had suggested a hot dog stand where you could get "a lot of hot food for cheap". Angeal suggested a compromise with a nice little lunch place that served hearty portions and welcomed everyone. He said it would make Cloud the most comfortable while still treating him well.

Sephiroth was grateful for his good friends.

"I love Angeal, Genesis, and Zack," he said, opening the cafe door for Cloud. "In here, please."

"Oh," said Cloud.

---------

Cloud knew it. Sephiroth was in love with the other Firsts, and this little excursion was a kind way of telling Cloud to fuck off and leave the friend group. It hurt a little extra that this was a popular lunch spot for dates, and that Cloud would get his heart broken while playing hooky from his regular duties. Knowing his luck, he'd probably get written up for ditching, even if Sephiroth vouched for him.

"Order anything you like," said Sephiroth as they stood in line.

Cloud barely managed a grunt, and when it was their turn, he just muttered "same" after Sephiroth ordered.

Sephiroth let out a small smile. He was probably looking forward to getting rid of the pesky chocobo so easily. Cloud's heart clenched at the thought and the smile. He lived for those tiny little twitches of Sephiroth's lips and the bright twinkle in his eyes.

Sure, he'd thought the man was hot since his early teens, but as he'd gotten to know Sephiroth through Zack and the others, he began to love every piece of him, especially the bare hints of his true self from behind the professional mask. Cloud loved Sephiroth's pupils dilating and shrinking with his emotions, his crisp writing, his dry wit, his endearing cluelessness, his earnest care for his men and close companions...

Cloud loved the harsh parts too. Sephiroth glaring stone-faced at Hojo, forcing the man to concede and adjust Cloud's mako schedule after a bad reaction. Then after the scientist left, Cloud saw Sephiroth deflate and his hands shake. Whatever was between Hojo and Sephiroth was unpleasant at best, but Sephiroth had stood up for Cloud anyway.

Cloud saw when Sephiroth made hard decisions on the battlefield, saw the hints and glimpses of inner turmoil, saw the cool calm confidence as Sephiroth made his final choices.

Even Sephiroth's brutality was beautiful and thrilling to Cloud, like when he took on a dragon single-handedly to protect a squad of troopers.

Ah, but it was all over now. Their food had been delivered to their seats and Sephiroth had been quiet the whole time. Now he would tell Cloud the truth and push him away. Just like everyone.

-----

Sephiroth loved this moment, the sun blazing brightly overhead, highlighting Cloud's handsome golden locks. Not even the crowds bothered him today, as long as he could share this pleasant silence with this beautiful, wonderful man on their first-ever date.

Their food had arrived, so it was probably time for another pickup line, or some polite conversation.

"If people were boogers, I'd pick you first," Sephiroth said confidently.

Cloud's head snapped up from where he'd been staring at his fish burger.

"Really?"

"Of course, it is extra fitting, as you are yellow-headed," Sephiroth explained, pleased with his cleverness.

Uh-oh. That did not look like Cloud's happy face.

"REALLY, SEPHIROTH?! You drag me all the way out here in the middle of work, probably costing me a demerit at best, just to call me a BOOGER and reject me from your friend group?! And here I thought you were trying to let me down gently! How dare you?! You just...I lo- liked you so much and even if I'm not good enough to be your lover, I at least thought we could be *sniff* FRIENDS, and here you are getting me FIRED and CALLING ME A BOOGER!"

Cloud finished his tirade by jumping up and running out of the restaurant. Sephiroth was left bewildered, smelling fish and tears, watching his date sprint back to the tower.

He considered finishing lunch first, but settled on asking for to-go boxes before regrouping with his friends and hopefully finding Cloud.

---------

It was evening when Sephiroth was finally allowed to see Cloud, who had been caught by Zack and squirreled away in Zack's hoarder's nest of an apartment.

"Cloud?" he asked the angry burrito in the middle of Zack's couch. It huffed.

"Come on, Spike, you said you'd hear him out," said Zack, poking the lump. It growled.

"Fine. Get it over with."

"Genesis, Angeal, and Zack" Sephiroth began. The burrito's breath hitched like it was about to start crying. "Informed me that my words and actions were unclear this afternoon. I'm very distressed by this fact and wish to clarify. I intended to ask you, Cloud, out on a romantic date, and I mistakenly thought you'd accepted. The unfortunate comparisons to demons and bodily excretions were my poor attempts at pickup lines."

Zack had one hand covering his mouth to prevent a snort, and the other on his temple to massage it.

The room went very quiet.

"But...you said you were in love with the others?" Cloud's cocoon said, voice wavering.

"I said I loved them, which I do. I had asked them for advice, and they gave what I thought were good suggestions. At the time, I was praising them since I felt the date was going well. I realize now how that could be misleading. I...I'm sorry for scaring and confusing you, Cloud. I do quite like you, romantically, and no one else."

A pair of blue sapphires peeked out of the blankets, studying Sephiroth.

"Do you still...do you still want to go on a date?" Cloud asked, his gaze calculating.

"Very much so," replied Sephiroth.

"*Sniff* ok, me too. And I'm sorry for shouting and running out. Are you going to get bad press for that? I really didn't mean to, I just- I thought you hated me and-"

"Please, Cloud, do not worry over such things. They are all negligible in the face of my happiness over securing your affection."

"Dang, you shoulda used THAT line, Seph-dawg!" crowed Zack, slapping his friend on the shoulder. Cloud jumped, having forgotten Zack was there.

"Zackary, I believe you just ruined a moment," Sephiroth grumped. "Cloud, would you like to come over to my apartment? I saved our meals from lunch."

Cloud crawled out of his blanket nest, nodding vigorously and trying to subtly wipe his face off.

"*sniff* Yeah, I'd love to *sniff* thanks. Thanks Zack."

Soon the pair was on their way down the hall, ready to microwave fish burgers and make the whole floor rank with their newfound relationship.

[officecyborg]

Ramza turns the tide of battle

My wife was asking what I meant by “associating Ramza with water imagery” so in the interest of recognizing that not everyone lives inside my head, I thought I’d elaborate. At length. Anyway I guess the answer is that it’s not just about Ramza himself: there is a running “flood” motif regarding both Ivalice and St. Ajora, but it’s Ramza who gets the last word on what this means.

Alright, here’s the first mention of floods. This comes from Delita (Ramza’s character foil) in chapter 2, before the war has broken out:

Delita: The Dukes Larg and Goltanna, your brothers, and all the rest... They are all of them swept up in a mighty current - a current they cannot see or feel. I simply swim against it.

So current = class, war, the church, fate, or more broadly societal forces beyond one’s control. It’s a relentless tide, and even the most powerful men in the country aren’t immune from being washed away. And for people like Delita, they have to swim, or they will drown. (Side note, WotL plays up the water imagery big time compared to the other versions, including that “swimming” line that turns it explicitly into a current of water. More on that later.)

This idea is troubling enough to Ramza that he quotes it at the top of chapter 3. (That and chocobos, I guess, Delita’s two most important bits of advice.) Again, WotL adds another line about “test[ing his] legs against the current.”

Let me turn to Ajora for a second and the exact thing he is supposed to have done, in Ivalice’s religion. He was executed for heresy, and then:

But lest we forget, Saint Ajora was a child of the gods. The wrath of the heavens was swift and terrible. Immediately following the execution, Mullonde, the center of Pharist teachings, was visited by a terrible cataclysm and sank into the sea.

So this is a bit like the legend of Ys. There used to be a city here, but after the saint arrived, it was swallowed by the sea. And there’s a commonality with Delita’s “current” monologue, I think, given his list of names: These people think they are mighty, but they have no idea what’s coming to them. Less subtle, but just as inevitable, destruction. Ajora brings down divine retribution on Mullonde.

Ramza certainly ends up dealing a crushing blow to Mullonde himself, but actually what I want to focus on here is the sea. Ajora’s big miracle is that after he’s executed, he floods Mullonde with a tidal wave.

Now, while it isn’t the end of the game, the end of the war (thematically) is marked by Ramza taking a decisive, heroic action that saves hundreds of lives. And that’s this:

Mullonde wants to soak the earth with blood from this battle, Ramza floods the front with water. (While WotL merely name-checks it, in the PSX version, Fort Besselat/Bethla Garrison has the unique win condition of opening the sluice gate. The battle doesn’t end until you do.)

In his capacity as ‘the true hero of the War of the Lions’, Ramza stops the bloodshed the church is planning by opening a sluice gate, so nobody can fight at all. This isn’t divine retribution, or an inevitable calamity, this is water as a great leveller. Can he stand against the current? No. But he unleashes the current, and by doing so, lets the two sides regroup before the church can swoop in and crush them all. In a lot of ways it feels like a spiritual retort to Ajora’s big miracle. Fitting, for a heretic.

Final thing: WotL adds in a lot of poetical language, and one of the conversations where they do this is the confrontation between Ramza and Isilud, when Isilud attempts to win him to their cause (emphasis mine):

Isilud: The Church of Glabados envisions a world devoid of class divides - a world where all men can live as equals! Saint Ajora spoke of such a utopia. It is the Promised Land he foretold! Fear and doubt worry the hearts of the people, leaving small room for fealty. You see this! Ivalice lists, Ramza, and threatens to founder! Should we fail to right her course, this storm will claim her!

Ramza: It is you who churn the waves! You orchestrate this entire conflict! You claim war to be the proper course for Ivalice!?

Ramza is a heretic, Isilud is a church knight of Mullonde, and Ivalice, apparently, is a ship about to sink in crashing waves.

In conclusion: Ramza should have been an Aquarius. At least he’s a sea goat.

[idle-minded-sucks]

CC FF7 WG Drabble

https://curiouscat.me/VeryIdleMinded/post/1297717196

Cloud wakes up with his stomach growling. He pushes his hungry hairy behemoth off his legs and the momentum helps him into a sitting position and he rocks himself up to standing from there. While gasping for breath from the exertion he hits the remote button on the wall to open the garage door to his new apartment. He outgrew the door to his old one a few dozen pounds ago, but was already DONE with the stairs leading up to it a few hundred before that. 

Leaning back because of his altered center of gravity, Cloud let his fat gut lead the way, jiggling like the largest Flan anyone had ever seen. His slow pace was arduous, knees bouncing his stomach and thighs forcing his gait into an obscene waddle. He needed to reach his favorite place to inhale another day long feast with his favorite ladies at the 7th Heaven Buffet. 

Even though they replaced the doors with a custom made creation more than wide enough to permit someone of his size entrance to the Buffet, they didn't replace the three steps up to the door with anything friendlier for him to surmount. Cloud was absolutely convinced that keeping the stairs was a cruel joke from Aerith in the remodeling plans, but now the joke was on her and how her saddlebag thighs were now so big that could each obscure a baby Chocobo. 

Cloud couldn't be too snide about her size though, she was the most mobile of the three of them and adored loading up their plates with the tastiest treats. He hoped the day she was too big to bake any more of her delicious treats didn't come any time soon. Her adoptive mother taught her well, and was a little envious of the special treatment that Elmyra lavished upon Barret. 

After humming a victory tune after defeating the stairs, he flowed into the dining hall to see Tifa already there. Or was Tifa still here from last night? From the way the dirty and demolished plates were stacked up on the table, higher than her breasts that even Titan would struggle to heave around, she certainly hadn't stopped eating all night. 

Tifa took up an entire side of the long dining table, and paused her inhalation of food to give Cloud a (literally) syrupy sweet smile. She patted her side, the closest approximation to patting the seat next to her she could make with her oceanic flow of flab being spread so wide.

By the time he dropped his sweaty and starving mass onto the bench across from Tifa, Aerith had appeared with a cart piled high with pancakes, waffles, cinnamon rolls, donuts, crepes, muffins, and much much more. Every plate she served to the pile of a pair was delivered with a bite or ten taken for herself. It was a tax that neither of the hungry hedonist minded paying.

[graha-stan-account]

Off The Hook: Day 4

Off The Hook: 1. idiomatic Relieved of a duty, burden, responsibility, or pressure.

Present. Set in 6.35. G'raha gets invited to open the door to Eureka Orthos, but can't bring himself to leave. So he does some reminiscing at the Find.

Note: The lower half is straight memory, so italicized sentences are supposed to denote stream of conscience alongside his recollection.

FFXIVWrite 2023 Masterlist

- 

It was odd to be here once again. The familiar cots, the tents, the earthy smell of hippogryph stew... Traversing backward in time was not new to G'raha Tia, but this heady sensation wasn't quite that. It was merely the feeling of moving backward, as when a neighboring chocobo carriage pulls ahead of one's own. Illusion. Yes, he was supposed to be gone to Sharlayan now, long gone, as was supposed to be the camp at St. Coinach's Find. NOAH's expedition had concluded long ago, but when news reached Rammbroes that the true Noah, in the shape of Koh, had managed to secure the aid of the Warrior of Light, the ruins that had become of the Find sprung to life once more. And just as Rammbroes, Cid and the rest of the old crew could not be kept far from the wonders of the past, neither could G'raha. At least, that was the excuse he'd devised. 

In truth, as much as it was a homecoming after a fashion, he could not in good conscience leave J'napha behind. Open the door and then leave, heir of Allag, was G'raha's recollection of Noah's sentiments. He was off the hook, so to speak, but it hardly felt like relief. 

Because when last he found himself idle in this place, it was in a world where the Warrior of Light lived only in tales. Where none of these friends drew breath. Flesh of their flesh, perhaps, but not this Biggs and Wedge, first of their names, who laughed heartily at obscure jests about Magitek, and not this Cid, and certainly not this hanger-on Nero, or... 

But not all memories dredged up by this place were bittersweet. 

On that day, she had arrived a full sun earlier than expected. Biggs and Wedge were still tinkering with the particulars of their aetherometers, pending another descent into the labyrinth below the tower. A bit of dungeon-delving young G'raha was eager to do, though the Warrior of Light assured she had already cleared any source of impending doom from its corridors. Despite his hurry, the rest had made up their mind to wait until the morning for the exploratory mission. To see with fresh eyes, they said.

So that meant a kettle of Syele's special hippogryph stew, a few 40-onze bottles from the Seventh Heaven and a round of bawdy songs from Cid, half-remembered and half-invented, all to pass the time 'til morning. But by now, the night had devolved into tales, not quite of derring-do, but doing... something. 

"So I tell this lass I'll sit in, give her a few ins and outs, been around the tables a bit in my time – playing cards! I don't know a bloody thing about any mahjong. But how's she gonna know? It's worth a chance, I think." From there the tale turned to how Cid had near lost his shirt at the Gold Saucer. "The point is, a good crew's important! Without 'em the Enterprise would still be a right pile of scrap, the override keys would be no better than blunt weapons, and needless to say I'd be late for all my appointments!" He laughed. 

"Give Cid a few to drink and it really brings the Lominsan out of him, doesn't it?" G'raha had approached the group from behind, proffering a cup of stew in J'napha's direction. She turned around suddenly at his remark, eyes wide and face blank as though she had not heard much at all. "Cid," G'raha gestured with his other cup, the novelty of his little quip souring in his mouth as he spoke it a second time. "When he drinks, 'tis clear he'd get on well in Vylbrand." The jest had only aged more poorly over the years and he cringed recalling it.

J'napha took a sip of the stew broth, her face tightening for a moment before trying another polite taste.

"Oh, but he's a good laugh," she replied, a half-hearted smile fixed on her face. "This stew, did someone say it was a Sharlayan recipe?"

G'raha grimaced. "Certainly tastes of it." At the time, the irony was likely lost on her.

"An' this one!" Cid boomed. "Gods, never did the Ironworks feel more useful than in gettin' the impossible done!" Cid leaned in, flitting from his own story into their private conversation. "Ah, look at that face. So many accolades and still! So modest." Cid clapped J'napha on the shoulder, sending chunks of popoto flying from her cup.

"Cid, really," she said, glancing at him tentatively, as though loathe to draw further attention. She yet wore the polite smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Hide in yer cup then, but I'll tell it! Not only does she best the Black Wolf Van Baelsar himself, but she went toe-ta-toe with that magitek monstrosity too! 'Tis a blow the Empire won't soon forget, I'll tell you that! And I say cheers to that!" Cid clanked a bottle in a round to all he could reach from his seat. 

As he lowered his bottle, G'raha caught J'napha smiling again. It wasn't quite a full, hearty grin, but her eyes reflected the glow of the campfire. Not brimming with mirth, but something softer. Warmth. It seemed Cid's relief gave her relief.

She had once said no bards would see fit to sing of her deeds. That birds do not sing of blood and death. 

Perhaps of the birds it was so. But that, that relief, was a motif to course unbridled through bards' paeans if there ever was a worthy cause to sing. That was the kind of heroism t'would compel a scholar put pen to paper. The triumphant jubilation not of cities conquered or comeuppance had but clear skies, healthy children, bountiful harvests and family reunited.

Such songs were songs of hope. Such were songs which would ring throughout time. This he now knew.

In those early days, G'raha couldn't know - only suppose at length - how history would remember her or any other. But in the long slumber between then and now, the bards and songstresses and scribes of the age had brimmed over with gleeful strains and thrumming chords and fevered verse – all homage to the new beginnings transmuted from tragedy by the Warrior of Light's hand. But yet in the thick of her own epic, how could she know?

The mere thought made G'raha Tia himself want to sing. Perhaps then, she just might.

[thorneyes]

The Blood and Thorn

The iridescent film of the gloom filled the streets of Revenant’s Toll, casting the towering stone walls of the city in an eerie purple. Like oil on water, with the sky itself as the pool - a striking effect for anyone unused to living around Silvertear, or the nearby ceruleum processing plants, but commonplace, to the locals.

Rohesia didn’t count herself as a local, but she didn’t look up at the sky for more than a moment when she stepped out of the winding passages of Revenant’s Toll and into the hazy light of day. She just clicked her tongue and ducked her face behind the high collar of her coat, working her jaw against the ache the gloom left in it, and left the shelter of the stone archway.

A brisk walk took her down past the markets, first approaching the aetheryte, then passing it without a second glance. She ducked past chocobo porters and merchants, nodding occasionally to a half-familiar face but continuing on without a word, carefully holding a square of parchment in one hand. The uneven cobbles were familiar under her feet, easy enough to avoid turning an ankle as she moved towards one door in particular, slowing her pace.

At this time of day the Seventh Heaven was beginning to fill with the usual crowd of adventurers coming in from their day’s work and travelers stopping in for a meal. No minstrel tonight, she noted, attention sliding towards the back bench - and no one bustling around the ‘No Entry’ sign at the back, same as it’d been for moons. So it was a slow night, not enough to fill all of the tables yet. But enough of a crowd that the volume climbed, and no one glanced up as she ducked in behind a pack of Ishgardians who made their way towards the bar. She ducked away towards the bulletin board tucked towards the side of the room, snowed in under so many layers of old bounties, advertisements, and levequests that the original board itself was long lost.

Her attention slid over the newest postings, taking in the new layers of writing without really reading it - a hunt mark, from the crude drawing of a morbol on one, another that could have been either a missing persons’ search or a bounty - not enough red ink had been used to determine one or the other, and the sketch only barely managed to convey the sense that the target was a lalafel, or perhaps a very young elezen. The only legible thing on that one was the reward, a hefty number that Rohesia immediately dismissed as too good to be true. Didn’t mean others wouldn’t - she wagered that that paper would be gone before the morning, snatched up by some altruist, or some so-called altruist’s hopeful gil purse.

She found a mostly empty corner, covered mostly with a leve she knew to be well taken care of - hippogryff hunting, for a leatherworker who’d skipped town almost a moon ago. She looked down at the parchment in her hand, the careful lettering - Blood and Thorn Clinic, with her building and room listed - Ask for Rohesia Thorneyes. There were no errors that she could see that she hadn’t looked for the last twelve times - she resolved not to look at it once she’d pinned it up. She already knew it wouldn’t stand out much amongst the other posters - she was hardly a scribe, let alone a calligrapher. But it was something.

With a single motion, she pinned the damn thing to the board, up in the corner. Probably where no one would think to look for it, but what the hell. It would be there, until someone decided to bury this notice under the next layer of parchment. “There. C’n tell Alia I’ve done it,” she muttered, dragging one hand through her hair as she turned away from the board. Now it was time for that gods-damned drink.

[moira-shears]

As Time Goes By

Tifa waited outside the small house in the countryside, waiting patiently, as the afternoon approached. Now seventy-three, Tifa Strife was retired and owned a farm alongside her husband of fifty years, Cloud Strife whom she still loved as much as the night the two made their promise, a promise that first bound them on almost the same day sixty years ago. Though the two had left Edge to retire, Seventh Heaven and Strife Delivery Service were still running under Marlene and Denzel who often came to visit them.

As years passed, Tifa’s hair started to change colour, to a pretty shade of grey. It was tied in a loose braid, and other signs of age started to show. Though she’d not quite been as good, Tifa was still a martial arts expert, even after a pregnancy in her thirties, and as death started to catch up.

The house the couple lived in was built in the area where they first confessed their mutual feelings to one another, the night before the impending battle against Sephiroth in the Northern Crater more than fifty years earlier. Down the path leading up to the house was the farm filled with crops and animals which the couple treated humanely as possible, though for meat, Cloud generally preferred to go out hunting.

Over the planes, Tifa saw a man on a chocobo, carrying something with him. When she saw his face clearly, Tifa smiled as she stood up. The man who came up to her was her beloved husband, Cloud Strife, aged seventy-four and still dashingly handsome, even with his aged face as he dismounted his chocobo and made his way up to Tifa. His hair was tied in a ponytail the same way he had it when he was a child, and he started to grow a full medium-length beard which Cloud claimed made him look more like a farmer, and his eyes still glowed from his exposure to mako, and always would.

“Cloud!” Tifa said as excitedly as she always did.

“Hello, Tifa,” Cloud said, “I brought you something,”

Cloud and Tifa gave one another a hug that was as tight as the ones they always had during their marriage. When the hug ended, Cloud took Tifa’s hand in his and opened it to reveal an old locket in the shape of a heart. Within it was a picture of their wedding day as the couple held each other’s hands and gazed into one another’s eyes. On the other side, there was an inscription reading: I promise, a phrase that had many meanings for Cloud and Tifa over many years.

“Cloud, you found it!” Tifa said happily, "Where was it?"

"I found it in the shed," Cloud said, "It was in the a one of my tool boxes, funnily enough. I knew you'd be thankful when I found it,"

"Oh Cloud, thank you," Tifa said.

Tifa picked the locket up and put it around her neck, afterwards slowly giving Cloud a kiss on the lips. Cloud kissed back and held Tifa in his arms for longer this time. Even after years of marriage, the couple never got tired of these loving gestures with no words needed to express their love for one another, only the comfort of their presence.

Inside the house, Cloud found that some chunky potato soup was waiting for him in the cooking pot, made from vegetables from their own farm. With the ladle, Tifa poured a bowl for Cloud and he looked down at the contents, containing some vegetables and strips of chicken. With this, he sat down at the table with a piece of bread by his side as he waited for Tifa to sit down in front of him.

Tifa’s cooking always brought happiness to Cloud, and after his retirement, she’d started to teach him to cook himself. Though he’d struggled at first, he got better with time, with Tifa’s approval going up each time, making Cloud proud of himself. Tifa’s cooking though would always have a special place in his heart, being from the woman he loved more than life itself, the woman he would lay down his life for.

When Cloud ingested his soup, he felt at peace with its warmth and taste so much like home, with Tifa and the farm. As he dipped his bread, he thought of his and Tifa’s family, both biological and adoptive, some with children of their own. Tifa though was the woman who gave Cloud the most comfort, and they always supported one another, even if none was needed.

After lunch, Cloud and Tifa went to sit on the couch where their cat Bell slept. Bell was a beautiful white cat who loved to sleep, and meowed a lot, especially in Tifa’s presence. Tifa had been given the cat by Cloud accompanied by Barret who was, amazingly enough, still alive and healthy at eighty-eight years of age, and was now living a quiet life in Kalm. He’d told Tifa he found the cat whilst walking with Cloud in Kalm, wandering the streets without an owner, so Cloud told Barret he and Tifa could take care of her.

Tifa picked Bell up, waking her and she meowed. Soon, however, she settled, and as Tifa started stroking her, she was purring. Both her purr and meow were beautiful and reminded Tifa of Maru, her first cat who was of the same shade. Tifa had an attachment to the cat, one which Cloud understood as he too had taken a liking to her and would often feed and pat her himself.

Cloud then picked up a book that had been marked near the end and started to read to Tifa. Though he was not known to be very talkative, Cloud had a soothing reading voice, as he told of a tale of a sailor lost at sea with no way home except the northern star, but no matter how much he sailed, he never reached the shore, until one day he saw the golden coast of the beach, and the sailor was so relieved, he jumped off his boat and swam towards the shore. It was there that he had met once again with his true love, a beautiful woman, a head shorter than the sailor, and she cried and cried until her eyes were dry, and the sailor held her tight, tighter than he ever had before, and told her, he would never let her go again, and they without another word, they kissed. Tifa leaned down on Cloud's shoulder as he read, and when the protagonist reunited with the heroine, she let out a sigh of relief, as the two reminded Tifa of a man and a woman she once knew, but never as a couple, and were long dead. Even the descriptions sounded much like them.

After Cloud finished reading, a knock was heard on the door.

"I wonder who that could be," Tifa said, as she and Cloud got up.

Behind it was Denzel, now aged sixty and dressed in a leather jacket reading 'Strife Delivery Service'. He’d grown a stubble, but his hair was the same wavy hair he had as a child, without a strand of white in it but he had visible wrinkles lining his face.

“Denzel!” Tifa said, “What do you have for us today?”

“Hello, Cloud, Hello, Tifa,” Denzel said, “I’ve got you both something I think you’ll like.” He passed a small box to Cloud and Tifa and when opened, the couple found an old photo of themselves, taken during their honeymoon at Costa Del Sol, in which Cloud held Tifa in his arms, as she sat on his lap, and with her, smiled at the camera.

“Denzel, where did you find this?” Cloud asked.

“In the bar’s storage room,” Denzel said, “It was well buried – no wonder you never found it. In fact, I found it completely by accident and decided to give it to you whilst I was working. I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay, I��ll have to be going right away,”

“Thank you, Denzel,” Tifa said, “and how’s Marlene?”

“Marlene has been slowing down as of late,” Denzel said, “but she’s confident she can hand the business down to Cole once she retires.”

“I see,” Tifa said, “This is the second lost item that was found today. Thank you for visiting, Denzel.”

With this, Denzel hugged his adoptive parents before he left, the sound of the Fenrir roaring into the distance. Later, Cloud and Tifa left the house, walking down the dirt road to the farm. They were followed by their farm’s chocobo, Koko, who helped to carry crops up the way to their house as well as working as an alternative to the Fenrir now owned by Denzel, which Cloud knew would scare the animals with its loud engine, whereas a chocobo only had it's chirps and talons that made sound.

The farm contained a field of wheat as well as some vegetables and fruits some in full bloom with others approching. The two were often visited by their son, Sky who had often come to the farm for assistance. Sky was a handsome man in his forties with Cloud’s spiky hair and Tifa’s shade, and he wore a smile on his face all the time, especially when they came to greet each other, having admired each other in every way possible, and his eyes were blue like the ones that Tifa remembered Cloud having when he was young, hence the name Sky.

“Hi Mum, hi Dad,” Sky said to them as they crossed paths, “You both look to be doing well. Do you suppose I could join you for dinner tonight?”

“You’re always welcome, Sky,” Cloud said.

“Very well then, I’ll see you tonight,” Sky said, “take care!”

With this, Sky went back to working, killing weeds and harvesting plants. Crops that Cloud and Tifa included in their farm were ten different types of greens to feed their chocobos, as well as the same number of nuts when it was tiem to breed them which held the purpose of providing chocobos for the population of Gaia as well as a comfort animal for Cloud who had a natural affinity to the birds, as they become attached to him automatically, as they did for Sky as well.

In the field, Cloud took Tifa’s hand and walked with her, observing crops that weren’t quite ready for harvest, with others seemed to be getting along well. Though Cloud had once been one who never knew the names of vegetables, he’d since learned after being taught by Tifa during his days as a courier, and now in his old age, he’d known more than he could name.

“These radishes look like they could be ready for harvest soon,” Cloud said, “These gysahl greens are looking well too. The chocobos will be happy,”

As Tifa had attempted to crouch down to observe, however, she heard the cry of an animal. When she and Cloud turned around, they saw a baby chocobo with its foot stuck in the fence and being threatened by monsters.

Cloud rushed to the chocobo’s aid, which in turn, scared off the monsters with his speed which was just like that of his twenty-one-year-old self. By the time Cloud reached it, the baby chocobo seemed to have calmed down, and he observed the stuck leg.

“There now,” Cloud said, “let’s take a look at that leg.”

The chocobo did not attempt to struggle when Cloud held it and successfully freed its leg from the fence. When Cloud took a closer look, he could see only a braise and mild breeding on the leg, which was otherwise in very good condition, as it didn’t struggle to stand and curled up to Cloud with a loving sound. Further, inspection confirmed that the chocobo was a girl.

“Aw Cloud, it looks like you made a new friend,” Tifa said, as she went to pat the chocobo.

“I think I have,” Cloud said, “I think she wants me to fix her leg.”

Cloud and Tifa travelled to the shed where they found a bandage and wrapped it around the chocobo’s leg and afterwards housed her in the stable alongside the other chocobos, and one set in particular cuddled her, perhaps her parents, Cloud thought.

After dusk, Cloud and Tifa went back home and had dinner with Sky, who informed the couple that the cattle had been doing just fine with no more indigestion, as had the chickens and sheep. Knowing the couple liked their privacy though, Sky didn’t say long, and left not long after he’d finished Tifa’s soup which he expressed great pleasure in, as he always did with his mother’s cooking, and returned to his wife and seven-year-old son.

When Midnight came, Cloud and Tifa sat outside, sitting on the same rock they sat over fifty years ago. There they gazed up at the stars and reminisced about that day. Unlike in the city of Edge where there was much light pollution, there were many stars visible on the curtain of night where Cloud and Tifa now lived, as much as there were in Nibelheim.

“It’s been sixty years,” Tifa said, “Do you remember, Cloud?”

“That night on the water tower...” Cloud said, “I could never forget. You were thirteen, I was fourteen. I told you I was going to Midgar to become a SOLDIER. I said I wanted to be like Sephiroth... I promised that if you were ever in trouble, I would come to save you,”

“And you always did,” Tifa said, “even if it hadn’t been the way I’d imagined all those years ago, and although I could save myself. You were always there Cloud, thank you,”

“I always will be, Tifa,” Cloud said, “No matter how old you or I get, I will never forget our promise. I love you, Tifa,”

With this, Cloud gave Tifa a kiss, a mild yet loving kiss, as they often were, and Tifa could only kiss back. Cloud’s arms curled around his wife’s back and Tifa did the same. No matter what, Cloud would be Tifa’s hero, even if all was lost and they were the only two people left on Gaia, Cloud would protect Tifa, forever.

Tifa rested on her husband’s shoulder, and Cloud held her closer. Gently, he picked her up as though they’d just gotten married and carried her into their house and up to their bedroom on the second floor of the house where they went to sleep without changing clothes, and Bell jumped up to sleep with them as she did every night. Tifa still felt light in Cloud's arms, and due to the JENOVA cells in his veins, he was still strong even though his age started to show, and so was Tifa.

Cloud lay down next to her, holding her close as if she were going to disappear the next day, knowing their bond was without strings, and even when she or he died, Cloud would continue to love and cherish her in his heart. They hadn’t pulled over the blanket when they were sleeping, but when they woke up, they woke up happy and comfortable, and just like every morning, they gave a kiss when they woke up, and walked down into the golden field of wheat hand and hand. If there was anything Cloud knew for certain, it was that he would love her.

For eternity and beyond...

AO3:https://archiveofourown.org/works/43235650

[phoenix-flamed]

He had to be subtle, Rodney reminded himself as he had done a number of times when it came to the interesting state of his relationship with Elwin. Outdoors, he had sworn to him at least that much. Outdoors and away from prying eyes.

It was a late night, and there was none to pass judgement but the very heavens themselves. Perhaps the chocobo stable was an odd decision for a location, but none would consider coming here so late. Rodney's lips hungrily crashed upon Elwin's own pair, wanting to feel their searing heat upon his own. His Grace, his Archduke, in some circumstances his lover. He would steal him away no matter how late into the eve he would need stay awake to do so. Elwin was his first love, and he had no intent of looking for another man to take his place. Not now or ever.

"My flame." A smirk, bare hands placed upon the older man's hips. "How quick need we make this?"

Oh, to go back to the days of their youth, to those summers spent in Eastpool together. Long days, longer nights, and every moment that Rodney, Hanna, and Elwin spent together was cherished as though it would be their last. Because in truth, it very well could have been; all it would take was the winds of Storm shifting against their favor, and he would be forced apart from them to begin fulfilling the next step of his ducal duties.

Would that fate had not been so unkind. Would that Metia, back then, had listened to his silent pleas. But such things as wishes upon a star were child's play, and he had learned very early on that he was not permitted to be a child.

So much had changed since those days, but there remained two constants: one was the love that the three shared, and the other was their closely-guarded secret relationship. With Hanna, it was easier to hide. But with Rodney, perhaps due to their close proximity to one-another, it was a much different case. Sometimes it was a gaze that lingered just a moment too long, or a touch that seemed far too gentle to the scrutinizing eye. But the two men would always laugh it off, insisting that there was nothing deeper to it -- all while Elwin's heart ached.

But in these moments, these sacred, beautiful moments, there was solace. There was kindness and love, and understanding. Rodney's arms were a sanctuary that the Archduke could retreat to and hide within; he could hide from the world, hide from the wars, hide from the judgmental gazes of and rumors spread by the other nobles, which plagued his marriage and wounded his eldest son. He could even hide from the blood on his hands from the decisions he had made, continued to make, and his own cruelty on behalf of duty.

And so with passion and desperation and a yearning to both give and receive love, and to salve the loneliness he otherwise could never escape from, he dark-haired man returned the kiss. He sought to drown himself in his Lord Commander's affection, forgetting his duties and the battles and the arguments with the other High House representatives, and the emotional void separating the Duchess and himself, and the strain his frequent absences put on his relationship with his beloved sons.

Everything, everything was falling apart around him, it seemed. A leaking, sinking ship -- for every hole he covered, another would spring up in its place. Even the Blight was slowly creeping closer to their territory, and with it crept a gnawing dread and uncertainty on what to do, with no definitive answer in sight.

"My Shield." Compared to the Lord Commander's expression and tone, his lord's was far more sullen. The summers that had gone by since those youthful years now showed visibly on his once-handsome features. Worn by stress and battle, each line and wrinkle telling the tale of another unspoken trouble weighing heavy on both mind and heart. "A few hours, perhaps. So long as we part ways before the first sign of daybreak, it matters not a whit."

Even that simple answer held a hint of sorrow to it.

Those gloved hands skimmed across Rodney's upper back, before one drifted up to the blonde's hair, where fingers lightly brushed through the short strands. Meanwhile, his face was buried against the other's shoulder, just temporarily -- and when it raised again, it was just high enough that he could nuzzle his whiskered cheek against his first love's bearded one.

"Should any of the servants see me on my way back to my bedchamber, I will simply explain that I was unable to sleep, and thus took Eleftherios for a ride to clear my head," he went on to murmur, voice hushed as if someone might overhear them, despite knowing that it was unlikely.

@cagedfirebird

[theworldwalkerswols]

Writer’s Game: First Sentences

Found this through @ainyan !

Rules: post the first sentence of your last ten fics. If you haven't written ten fics, share as many first sentences as you have

I included the stuff I’ve worked on most recently and then the things I’ve published after that :3

1. “Haurchefant had been lying awake for what felt like bells.” WIP, for series Kyler Drake, Warrior of Light

2. “The snow had not relented.” WIP, chapter for The Arc of the Heavens

3. “Haurchefant took his time admiring Aymeric from this angle, the high gloss of his black curls, the delicious shadow of his thick eyelashes, the lusty droop of them over his eyes.” A Saucy Starlight, Chapter 5: Leather and Lust

4. ““You’re still cross with me,” Aymeric smiled, toying with a lock of Estinien’s hair, winding it round and round his finger.” A Saucy Starlight, Chapter 4: The Punishment He’d Earned

5. “Haure opened the door with Kyler still over his shoulder, the latter trying desperately to suppress his laughter, one hand clapped over his mouth.” A Saucy Starlight, Chapter 3: Spoil Him Rotten

6. “Raha woke slowly, his vision unfocused and hazy, awash in the cozy warmth of the heavy blankets and the man sleeping beside him.” A Saucy Starlight, Chapter 2: Waking Want

7. ““Well now,” Haurchefant said, looking down through his lashes at Estinien, who was resolutely not meeting his eyes, even if he still held to Haurche’s shirt with one hand and Aymeric’s with the other.” A Saucy Starlight, Chapter 1: Take Him to Pieces

8. “The campfire was burning low, the coals alive with heat.” The Man Who’d Earned His Affection, Part II

9. “There was a soft knock on the Fortemps library door.” Drink With Me

10. “Kyler and Haure hurried from the Tribunal atrium, the latter holding the black chocobo’s reins, trying in vain to suppress laughter and earning only more looks of derision from the incredulous Inquisition guard.” A Chocobo Walks into the Supreme Sacred Tribunal of Halonic Inquisitory Doctrine…

There is. SO much more. I’m not gonna tag anyone but if you want to play please do and tag me so I can read your lovely opening sentences!

[yokasaris]

Prompt #15- Row

FFXIV 30 Day Writing Challenge (mentions of EW tank role quests) From Gridania, the pair of miqo'te kept exclusively to the well worn roads. To further savor the daywalkers' experience, Zhan'a had said, though he was more concerned with any gossip they might hear along the way. Unfortunately, he found gossip in short supply as time passed and the road remained empty save for themselves. That left only one option, as loathe as he was to admit it. "And here we are! Bentbranch Meadows. Heaven of birds." Zhan'a motioned to the chocobo stables, his fur standing on end as one of the dreaded yellow creatures turned a dark eye upon them. "Yeesh. Stay clear of 'em, kit. One good kick and we'll be needing a conjurer who can manage to piece all yer bones back together. I would know. Had one break what felt like half my ribs one time. Accidentally spooked it, ya see. Bad times, do not recommend." Waes gave the row of stalls an appraising glance, but her attention drifted toward a crowd gathered by the porters' stable. "They be lookin' angrier than the birds, I reckon."

A mob might as well make up for their lack of information gathered on the way. Although, as they cautiously made their way closer to the throng of people, he wasn't entirely sure if 'mob' accurately portrayed the scene. It might soon enough, though, if the Wailer standing between the agitated crowd and the chocobokeep did not broker some sort of peace soon. "-seem like it, but I can assure you that it isn't," the Wailer shouted over the din, drawing a wave of disgruntled mutterings. "There is no sickness. You are in no danger of becoming sick here. But, even if you take the route south, you can only go so far as the Rootslake. The road beyond is closed." "But there is sickness." A hyur elbowed his way to the front of the crowd. "I saw it myself! You could see it on their skin. The chains." Zhan'a exchanged a glance with his niece. His fur was already ruffled from the proximity to the chocobos, so at least she couldn't see how much this set him on edge. "We don't gotta worry 'bout it," he whispered, crossing his arms. "Creeping Death don't affect us. Still, they've got a cure for that shite. I've made it before myself. So..." "My lad workin' at Camp Tranquil says they're dealin' with a beast prowling about now," the chocobokeep said as he peeked around his guardian. "Them Wailers are runnin' ragged tryin' to keep travelers safe all while holdin' the blockade. I'm not sendin' my birds down there until he gives the all clear. If youse all want to chance being eaten, use your own two feet!" Humming, Zhan'a motioned for Waes to follow as he slowly backed away from the crowd. First sickness now beasts. Difficult to know what to believe just yet, not with how rumor could warp truth into a general paranoia. "Let's press on to the Druthers. If we can get at least that far, we're doin' all right. Can get a better idea of what's what in the area 'stead of secondhand scaremongerin'."

[writer-of-histories]

Ishgard has been left behind. And, forgive me, journal, but this shall be a bit of a longer entry.

I can hardly believe I’m back to Dravania. I have very few memories of the place, but they stand out far above the rest. T’was one of the few places I awoke from my animalistic state during my many years of wandering. I regret to say what drove me out of the Chocobo Forest, but I dare say, it was not unlike the many other forest’s I had visited during that time.

I wish there were a way to turn back time, to right my countless wrongs. Perhaps I would be a different man. A piece of me wishes to ask Aki what she sees in the cards of hers, but… I dare not bother her now. Not with all that has transpired to send us out of Ishgard.

Since my last entry, much has happened. Alphinaud, Tataru, and S’mona were taken in by knights of the Heavens Ward. They were claimed to be consorting with heretics, completely baseless accusations. Tataru is no fighter, and S’mona sustained a great i just to his leg as we fled Ul’dah… So, Aki and I stepped up to fight in their place, alongside Alphinaud. We defeated the knights, but i did not feel that would be the end of things. I still do not.

Aki was then requested to speak with the Archbishop himself. I know my girl, and I know how much restraint it must have taken her to speak with him. And the look on her face when she returned was not one of peace, however much of an “honor” it had been. She told us the Archbishop himself admitted to entertaining Ascians, and though he claimed not to believe their words, Aki remains uncertain. Her judgement is not always the best, of this I assure you… But her demeanor was different. Instead of angry… She seemed uneasy. Uncomfortable.

And besides, her judgement matches my own. Though, I cannot claim to trust myself much. I am simply a pawn, to be moved as those who wield me please.

Anyhow. We also ended up venturing out to rescue Raubahn, which went quite terribly at first, but we managed to save him in the end. That deserves its own entry entirely.

Anyhow… We had to leave Ishgard, as i mentioned before. And by we, I mean our surviving Scions and a man named Estinien. Him and Aki seem to have some personal affairs, though… it’s hard to pinpoint what exactly that means. Relationship or hatred, it’s difficult to say.

We found lady Iceheart herself, and she has joined us on our adventure. I dare not comment on anything regarding her until we learn more about her, but somehow, she feels familiar.

We have stopped in Tailfeather, where I write this. I have stepped outside while a few of the others speak with a man named Marcechamp. I have been trying to keep a low profile, as I do not know if any would recognize me. I pray not.

There was some commotion that I must investigate. Until next time.

[xiakha]

FFXIVWrite2022 Prompt #3 - Temper

Thancred was hoping for a nice quiet day off. He deserved as much. Being a hellishly handsome and devilishly devious rogue was hard work, especially because he also had to pretend to be a bard while he was at it, and both his singing and his playing were passable at best. He also knew about three songs and people started catching on to that fact pretty quickly after the third go around.

But no, this was the Rising Stones, Scions headquarters. There was no such thing as a quiet day. He was only one beer deep into day drinking when the doors started slamming.

Notably, that there was not much yelling told him well enough the identity of the feuding two. Xiao didn't know enough of the language to really express herself well, and Y'shtola, as a rule, never raised her voice. In fact, Thancred would have bet a full round for a full house of adventurers in the Seventh Heaven that Y'shtola would walk out without even a frown on her face.

Xiao was a different story. She ran out into the common room teary-eyed, much like the fair maiden she allegedly was under all of that armor, muscle, and bloodshed. She burst through the main doors to the Rising Stones and Thancred heard her whistle for her Chocobo while still in the Seventh Heaven.

Thancred quickly downed what remained of his current mug and hopped the bar to filled up another one. He also picked out a fine dry red wine, popped the cork and poured a glass, just in time for Y'shtola to appear. No worse for wear of course.

"Is that supposed to be for me?" Y'shtola asked as Thancred set the glass down on the bar and temporarily recorked the bottle. "It could be, if you'd like." "I shouldn't, I ought to go back to my studies." Y'shtola still sat down in a stool in front of him and took the proffered glass. They clinked their respective drinks together in a small toast, and then Thancred watched as Y'shtola downed the entire glass in one go.

See? Easy bet.

The Miqo'te shivered slightly as the wine traversed her gullet and pushed the glass over to Thancred, who nudged the cork off the bottle and poured another glass without a word. This one also went down almost immediately, but the third glass she had the sensibility to stop midway through.

Thancred took a sip of his beer and cleared his throat, "So." "So?" "Something you want to talk about then?" Y'shtola shot a withering glare at him, "And what would make you say that?" Her face, stone cold even if the insides of her ears were beginning to flush a bit and her hand was a bit more wobbily, betrayed nothing.

But of course, to Thancred, who was well aware of Y'shtola's mannerisms after so many years childhood rivals and friends, then colleagues, she betrayed everything.

"If it matters, she departed towards the Silvertear Lake." That is, not north, for the Coerthas Central Highlands. "Oh, did she tell you her exact plans while running out of the Rising Stones, sobbing?" "No, but she did whistle for her Chocobo." Y'shtola narrowed her eyes and took a sip from her glass. Thancred matched her expression and also took a sip from his mug. "I see," she said, and perhaps her body language changed an imperceptible amount. The unsaid implication was of course that Xiao left for a place without an aetheryte.

Meaning she did not head to Camp Dragonhead.

Y'shtola prided herself in many things. Foremost of them that she was the only apprentice and student to Master Matoya. This meant that she held herself to Matoya's rigorous standards even now. And perhaps in the witch's youth she had pursued or been pursued, but by the time Y'shtola came under her care, Matoya had already spent some thirty or forty years a spinster. Aetheric research and weaving magic were the only things she loved and cared for, and these values were imparted on Y'shtola from an early age.

However, Y'shtola was not Matoya. Maybe in fifty years she'd feel the same crotchety way about the world, but the current Miqo'te had been a impressionable child, then a hormonal teen, then a maturer yet still hormonal young adult. The Studium was never free of interpersonal drama, and Thancred and Y'shtola both had their shares. Never with each other of course, not when their respective mentors were constantly at each other's throats, and they had hated each other in the way children could. But they'd had... comparable lists of burned relationships and break ups. (Incidentally, their lists contained a few shared individuals, though never concurrently)

And so it was that Thancred could easily guess at what was going on this time around as well. Y'shtola found any sort of relationship a betrayal of that key part of her identity. It was unthinkable that she'd prioritize anything over her research, so when she found herself weighing her priorities, she'd overcorrect every time. Simple really, though woe betide the pitiful fool that pointed such a thing out directly to Y'shtola's face.

But what was new to Thancred about all of this was that Y'shtola didn't simply dismiss the relationship like an unwanted Carbuncle. Oh, it would be awkward, but it would pass soon enough, if only because Y'shtola would insist on acting like nothing was wrong. Was it because she was the one that recruited Xiao? Was it something that made her recruit Xiao in the first place? Why would she be so unable to extricate herself from Xiao?

Thancred quaffed the rest of his drink and set his mug down. He had a tack he wanted to try, "I would hazard to say that the Warrior of Light is not a primal of any sort." Y'shtola snorted, "Are you sure? She's collected enough crystals and answers our prayers." "An anti-primal primal? That doesn't explain her willingness to fight Garleans." "Fair," Y'shtola narrowed her eyes again, "Enough banter, speak plainly." Thancred refilled her glass without being asked, "Take it from me, a person who was literally possessed by a Paragon. This isn't a personal betrayal, you haven't been changed or altered in any way." Y'shtola took a thoughtful sip, well it was more of a gulp, and said, "You think that's what this is about?" "I'm just using our long personal history as a guiding star." "And what of our status as realm-saving agents? What if, while on mission, she has to choose between me and you? Between me and Minfilia? Me and the mission? How do you suppose she'd choose?"

Thancred narrowed his eyes and frowned slightly, "'Tis poor form to accuse others of your own shortcomings with these excuse. I have full faith that Xiao would choose all of the above, or, failing that, the right choice. But decisions afield are never so rigidly black and white, of this you are well aware." Y'shtola placed the glass down a little more heavily than she was probably meaning to. Her formerly stoic expression split with a smile, but Thancred saw it as a rictus. Twelve be good, he pushed too far. "Wouldn't you agree, Master Thancred, that she'd be better off with some commander of a base to warm her bed instead of a barely solvent academic turned part-time adventurer who would leave that bed cold? Doesn't she deserve more as Warrior of Light than a group of busybodies seeking new ways to get themselves killed while trying to fulfill the impossible goals of their dead mentor?" "She chose you." Thancred said, "She chose to believe in us."

Y'shtola's smile disappeared and she leaned her head against her arms on the bar, "Can you not see then how I'd wish her to choose differently?" "Aye, 'twould be so much easier for you and yours no doubt. It is fearful indeed to fall in love, it's why I don't do it, but I never took you for a craven soul, Y'shtola."

She got up suddenly, a bit less steadily than she probably hoped to, and turned immediately back for her personal quarters, sparing not a word or a glance back at Thancred.

Which is how Thancred knew she was crying.

[winterdeepelegy]

Prompt 6 - A Wing and a Prayer

What I want, more than anything?  I just want to help my friends.  Oh, I wish, I wish... It was a rare, clear night with a sky full of shimmering stars and a moon sleeping in its New phase when Alpha found himself sitting outside on one of the walls of Revenant’s Toll.  He was alone save for his constant, mostly silent companion, a miniaturized likeness of Omega.  The diminutive robot, for what little it ever expressed, seemed perfectly content to idle while Alpha stared off into the heavens in search of the right kind of star to wish upon. As had happened many times since joining the Garlond Ironworks, Alpha tried his best to be responsible and help where he could.  This often meant he was relegated to quick errands, collecting or delivering small parcels or letters, or picking up lunch for the crew.  Anything that kept him out from under foot. It was fine, he supposed, but seeing everyone work so hard all the time almost made it feel like he wasn’t doing enough, and whenever he tried to do more his kwehs and eagerly outstretched wings were never quite understood. “Sorry, Alpha, not now.  My hands are coated with grease.” “Oh, be careful, Alpha!  Almost didn’t see you there, buddy, you might get hurt.  We’ll play later alright?” He huffed such a sigh that his sunny yellow feathers ruffled but left him looking, and feeling, no less deflated once they settled back into place.  He loved playing as much as any Spoken child, but he also loved learning new things and feeling like he was more than simply an adorable mascot for the crew.  If only he could make them realize it, but the one person who might have any inkling of what he’d say was off tending to far, far more important matters. Even the OMG failed to understand.  It never did when it was at its most powerful, either, but how much understanding could one truly expect from a machina?

“Alpha,”  the toy Omega chimed, “Your emotional state is anomalous.”  Perhaps it didn’t understand every thought he wished to convey or his reasoning, but it understood his low mood as being strange for one who was usually so chipper. “Are you in need of maintenance?”  the machina inquired, but Alpha only shook his head. “This change was first detected following your last exchange with Biggs two hours and thirty-seven minutes and twelve seconds ago.  Is it common for organic creatures to experience a shift in emotional state when their intentions are not understood?” The chocobo fully turned his head toward the robot and bobbed his head once to grant an affirmative answer.  “Then entertainment was not your purpose?” Alpha shook his head again. “This unit surmises that your intent was to offer assistance. Is that accurate?” Another nod, but this time a little more emphatic.  Maybe Omega did understand in its own way, even if that way was by process of elimination. “Acknowledged.” A momentary pause followed, and then a click. “Having reviewed the safety protocols of the Garlond Ironworks, although you are considered a part of the crew, you are not considered an employee.  Therefore, it would be unsafe as well as illogical for them to directly involve you in their more advanced processes. Their insurance policy also does not cover damage to animal life forms, of which chocobos are included in this category.” Alpha frowned at the unintended insult and looked down to the wide area around the aetheryte, below, as a chocobo-drawn cart laden with parcels rolled through. Omega also observed this, and while Alpha wallowed at the thought of being relegated to a pack animal, his former master and creator processed this information. As the bird pulling the cart came to a sudden halt, it sent a piece of cargo clattering to the cobblestone path.  It was a much smaller cart on wheels, a near replica of the vehicle it came from.  A toy... and it was just the right size. “Come, Alpha,” chirped the OMG. It turned away to skitter along the wall and down the stairs in pursuit of the toy cart. Alpha’s curiosity also got the better of him. This warranted investigating up close. “Observe.”  The simple instruction had Alpha turning his interest from the toy to the full-sized chocobo and cart that was completing its trek through the settlement en route to Coerthas.  It was then that he understood what Omega was trying to tell him, that the toy cart was proportionally suited to his size as the big one was to his much larger cousin.  Alpha’s mood quickly brightened.  This was but a tool that he didn’t have before, and one which was undeniably useful for helping to move things nearly as big as himself, things he never could have handled before. He tucked the cart handles under his wings to test its empty weight, and adjusted once the OMG climbed on. Perfect! Maybe now they’ll let me help! After giving it a little effort to start rolling, the pair returned to the Ironworks to present their new find and put it to good use.