#dustwatcher

[lupiine]

if you're still accepting name requests: marshlight?

[hayheadd]

UPDATED clangen pathologic warrior cats... directed at no one in particular. made in dollmaker called clangen catmaker

Anna, Aspity and Var

Grief, Rubin and Lara

Eva, Yulia and Maria

Aglaya, Block and Simon

Murky, Sticky and Taya

Georgiy, Victor and SImon

Grace (with dirty paws), Khan and Notkin

Saburov, Saburova, Oyun

Andrey and Peter Stamatin

Capella, Vlad jr and Big Vlad are in the first one I'm only allowed 30 images.... anyway.... as a fun little bonus

Medicine cats

Snakeheart (Daniil Dankovsky)

Small tortoiseshell tom with white paws, a red spot on his chest and amber eyes

Bullheart (Artemy Burakh)

Massive fuzzy golden tabby tom with blue eyes 

Ratheart / Miracleheart (Clara)

Lanky dilute calico thing with bright yellow eyes

Miracleheart is the name she chose for herself, but everyone calls her Ratheart to mock her instead 

Termiteclan

Stickpaw (Sticky)

Lanky golden tom with green eyes

Murkkit (Murky)

Small lykoi she-cat with blue eyes

Knotpaw (Notkin)

Gray tom with brown spots on his nose and ears, a dog collar around his neck and yellow eyes (Resembles Jester)

Soul-and-a-halves are basically the cat distribution system. They find humans for themselves 

Sparkpaw / Birdpaw (sight) (Capella)

Tall ginger she-cat with blue sparkly eyes

Her mom Daystar / Swanstar (Viktoria Olgimskaya)

Elegant long-furred white she-cat with sparkly yellow eyes

Gracepaw (Grace)

Long-furred white she-cat with tired blue eyes and stuff stuck in her fur

Antkit (Taya Tycheek)

Brown and dark ginger tortoiseshell she-cat with bright yellow eyes

Dogpaw (Khan Kain)

Round small dark gray tabby tom with bright blue eyes

Spireclan

Whispersong (Eva Yan)

Elegant round light yellow she-cat with blue eyes 

Newteye (Peter Stamatin)

Cream tom with green eyes 

Newtclaw (Andrey Stamatin)

Cream tom with green eyes 

Scarletsight (Maria Kaina)

Blueish black she-cat with amber eyes 

Her mom Nightstar (Nina Kaina)

Elegant tall long-furred black she-cat with amber eyes

Highstep / Smallspider (Vlad Jr)

Tall dusty gray tom with yellow eyes

Shadowflower (Victor Kain)

Round gray tabby tom with blue eyes

Mistchaser (Georgiy Kain)

Old long-furred silver tom with yellow eyes

Humbleclan

Rockfang (Stakh Rubin) (Rubyfang)

Parcially bald black tom-cat with yellow eyes and fur on his chest, paws and tail 

Riverpebble (Lara Ravel) (Gravelpebble)

Long-furred dark gray with black spots, a fuzzy tail and blue eyes

Sleektalon (Bad Grief) (Owl/Filin)

Small ginger tabby tom with green eyes

Robinsong (Anna Angel)

Dark ginger she-cat with yellow eyes 

Molesight (Katerina Saburova)

Dusty silver and black she-cat spots with bluish gray eyes

Dustwatcher (Alexander Saburov)

Light brownish-gray tom with greenish gray eyes 

Applebird (Yulia Lyuricheva)

Tall golden tabby she-cat with green eyes

Bullface (Foreman Oyun)

Massive brown tabby tom who wears a bull skull and has light blue eyes

Wormleg (Aspity)

Lanky dark brown thing with gray eyes

Other

Lilythorn (Aglaya Lilich)

Tall blue she-cat with light green eyes

Ashenstep (Alexander Block)

Dark ginger tom with bright blue eyes and gray paws

Crookedcrouch (Var)

Dark brown crooked tom with one yellow eye and one blind blue eye with a scar over it

Willowblossom (Willow Mellow)

Dark brown she-cat with green eyes

Willowdancer (Nara)

Tall dark blue she-cat with purple eyes

Bigbull (Big Vlad) (I KNOW it's a dumb name but what else is there for Big Vlad.)

Fat ass ginger cat with blue eyes 

Mudheart (Isidor Burakh)

Light brown tom with blue eyes

Skystar/Skychaser (Simon Kain)

Old long-furred white tom with blue eyes

The theatre??? I don't know the??? Silentden the??? Whisperden?

Foulplay (Mark Immortell)

Gray spotted tom with green and blue eyes

Ratcather (RATCATCHER)

Black and white (mostly black) she-cat with blue eyes

Birdfaces (Executors)

Face covered with a raven skull, cloak made of red feathers, flowers and leaves with raven bones sticking out. Usually shown sitting down in the performances, so only the front paws are barely visible beneath the cloak

and Silentfaces (Tragedians)

I don't know where they got the masks

Fellow traveller

Dark brown tom with green eyes

Crimsondove (Aysa Klyonina)

Dark ginger she-cat with a big nose and amber eyes

Viperpool (Farkhad)

Black curly-furred tom with amber eyes

general info/context:

They were the same clan but fell apart (Steppeclan)

Spireclan, Termiteclan And Humbleclan

All medicine cats named -heart

Queens are replacement for in-game mistresses, they're not nursing mothers. They're instead like mothers of the whole clan. There are also queen apprentices that can only be of queen blood. They get -sight names until they become full queens (leaders) and get -star.

Moonspire - Polyhedron (the kits call it the playden), Bullplace - Abattoir, Hollowpool - Cathedral

Polyhedron is made of ice that doesn't melt, Abattoir is made of that kinda ancient brown dusty ice that has diseases in it, Cathedral is a bunch of tall sticks and a puddle (melted ice) (fail)

Herb mates are also another cat class only special kin cats can be apprenticed to. They have -dancer names.

The powers that be are Starclan. Aka the giant kids. No idea how that explains them being like a literal government. Maybe everyone is super religious. I mean maybe god is real. Warrior cats

Daniil was a kittypet that lived in a veterinarian clinic

Rubin was unofficially apprenticed by Isidor, never got the -heart name.

The guardian cats are also in this au. A clan full of medicine cats. This is the place where Daniil lived and Artemy studied, but they didn’t know each other (Capital basically)

The Stamatins are former kittypets and den builders that used to live with the guardian cats.

The army is also another faraway clan that is full of warriors that fight by the orders of Starclan whether they like it or not

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

desertwalkers-- proclamation day

[sometime at the start of Stormblood...ish]

-------

The day after a Proclamation Town Hall was always busy in Stonewood. Chai-Nuzz would be meeting with the town's leadership to go over the finer details of the Dawnservant's orders, which in turn would be dissected down to the local authorities—Zaine Striker over in the Land Office had his hands full with new regulations regarding boundary-lines and resource rights, while the Dustwatch were parsing new directives on law and order.

"Soo…." Cheney, a deputy who normally took the night shift, scratched his head in confusion. "We're officially protectin' critters now?"

"If someone breaks the law, yes." Kemakka watched with a critical eye as Augustine carefully removed the Dawnservant's official seal from the page. It was already cracked to ensure nobody could forge it, but it still made for a nice trinket for an excited child. This one had been earmarked for one of Doc Bishop's regular patients.

"We deem that the following creatures are to be placed under royal protection, as they represent our nation and are examples of…" Pautiwa, Kemakka's second in command, was trying to read the proclamation while Augustine continued to remove the seal.

"You are going to hurt your neck if you keep craning it back and forth like that." Mathye warned. Pautiwa blinked at him, adjusting his glasses.

"Wonder if this has anything to do with the rumors of poachers." He said. "Last I was in the city, a Landsguard buddy of mine said they'd caught a group of outsiders trying to smuggle birds out of Kozama'uka."

"As in bird birds, or the—"

"Actual birds, not the Hanu Hanu." Pautiwa gestured. "The little fancy ones."

"You are going to have to be more specific than that." Kemakka said. "Do you know how many 'little fancy birds' are down there?!"

"The ones that dance and have the—the feathers!"

"Do you understand how little that narrows it down?!" Came the general rejoinder from almost everyone in the office. Pautiwa huffed, his tail lashing in the air. The seal finally came free off the page, and Augustine grinned.

"Got it—oh shit!" Part of the clay broke, falling to his feet. "Godsdamnit!"

"I got it, nothing that glue can't fix." Mathye started to bend over, but was intercepted by a helpful deputy picking up the piece and handing it to him. Augustine handed the proclamation to Kemakka, who took it with both hands.

"Let's see here. Rhoneek, hawksbill, members of our local reptile population…"

"So what, we can't go hunting anymore?" Another deputy asked.

"No, hunting is allowed for some of 'em. Just making the times when you can all proper official and the like. And the Dawnservant was careful to leave room for the tribes and the old gods, and if you gotta deal with a sick critter."

"Hey bossman, is he royally protected?" Kemakka looked up as the door opened. A glowering Captain Varlineau had appeared just inside the doorway, a beaming Riven next to him carrying a covered pan. And on top of the elf's head was Quetzy, surveying the room with glittering black eyes. Kemakka glanced sideways as muffled snorting started to pop up in the room.

"Alright now, if you're not part of the updates, get!" He barked. "We've still got patrols and it's payday tomorrow!" That done, he bobbed his head as Riven approached.

"Miss Sadler. Captain Varlineau."

"Sheriff! I got my hands on a pan of Seb's cornbread that he made down at the Saltlick today, I thought you and the men would appreciate some." Riven offered, holding out the pan. A grin spread across Kemakka's face.

"That's kind of you, Miss Sadler. I don't know what kind of shenanigans are going on between your brother and Mz. Vauban's sibling that's resulting in all this cooking, but I'm not complaining!" He replied, taking the pan. "I see why Augustine's been doing extra workouts!"

"Ser, I'll take that off your hands." Pautiwa offered, reaching out. Then he pulled back at the glare Kemakka gave him, eyes widening in surprise.

"I'll keep it for now, thank you very much!" The Dustwatch leader knew damn well if he let the pan out of his hands he'd be lucky if he could even get a crumb. "Why don't you go get Captain Varlineau his copies of the latest reports?" It was almost comical how Pautiwa sagged, sighing.

"Yessir." He headed to the back, and Riven giggled.

"Let me not be in your way." She said. "I only came by to bring the cornbread!"

"I'll walk you back, it's my turn to go get the mail." Augustine said. Estinien looked as if he wanted to protest, but could only watch as the Dustwatch deputy escorted Riven back outside, turning his head and smirking at the elf. Hot on their heels was Doc Bishop who…was also giving Captain Varlineau a shit-eating grin. Kemekka sighed, shaking his head. He wasn't getting involved in that mess—unless there was a dead body.

Four brothers and now a pet bird. Dark Mother be good. Quetzy had seemingly tired of being a pest, he launched himself off Estinien's head and flew through the door as it opened again. The elf exhaled, closing his eyes.

"Damn bird." He growled.

"Avatar of the gods, Captain." Kemakka said diplomatically. Fortunately he was saved by the arrival of Pautiwa again, bearing the latest on-duty reports. The elder Hhettsarro set down the pan as the elf picked up one of the folios, flipping through it.

"By the way, we were wanting Henderson alive." He said, looking up. "He had valuable intel." His eyes narrowed as Kemekka winced.

"About that." Picking up the pan again, Kemakka jerked his head towards his office. Estinien frowned, but obediently followed the man into the room. Once the door shut behind the pair, the Dustwatch sheriff sighed.

"It wasn't just goods we confiscated." He began, setting down the cornbread and turning around. "There were people too. Young women, taken from across the salt." Estinien's eyes widened in shock, and Kemakka continued.

"Henderson couldn't keep it in his pants. One fought back, he broke her neck. Found her body in a shallow grave not too far from the drop-off point. And Augustine was leader that night."

"Say no more." Estinien rumbled softly. "Accidents happen." The Dustwatch deputy was a good man to work with—currently annoying in his attempts to stymie the elf from engaging with Riven—but that was personal. Business was business, and the fort captain knew the younger Bishop was always good on getting the job done.

"What was the intel you were after? Maybe we might be able to help." Kemakka offered. Estinien shook his head.

"Confidential." He said. "But, I can tell you that there's a much bigger case going on. For years the Landsguard's been struggling to deal with a group of smugglers possibly working out of Tuliyolall or Yak Tural. And now my people are getting involved because whoever those smugglers are, they've gotten tangled up in Eorzean affairs." Kemakka's eyes widened.

"Well shit." He exclaimed. "I guess there's not much we can do for you." Estinien tilted his head, crossing his arms as he thought for several moments.

"I wouldn't…say that." He said. "There's some places still unfriendly to us because of the war, and because of that business with Van Baelsar. Your people are more mobile than us. Not to mention, more friendly with well…the biggest criminal problem on this particular side."

"I wouldn't call dealing with Klynt Gothawayn 'friendly'." Kemakka huffed, crossing his arms.

"You can get information out of her easier than I or my people could." Estinien countered. "In fact—if you could get some of your more trusted men to start asking about—anything they hear, you just report back to me. Especially if you can get something out of Van Baelsar's townships."

"What are we listening for?"

"Any sort of backlash about what happened with this." Estinien held up the folio. "Henderson had connections. Good ones. Both here and across the ocean. They're going to be none too pleased that he's dead, and even less happy their operations were disrupted. Somebody's bound to make a mistake somewhere trying to get the cart back upright." Kemakka hummed, considering the elf's words.

"We can do that." He said. "Give us a while though." Estinien nodded, his eyes flicking to the covered pan.

"I don't suppose I could trouble you for a slice of that for the road, could I?" He asked. Kemakka snorted, turning to walk around his desk proper.

"I'm tempted to hide this in here, but I know that lot outside will break in." He said, opening a drawer and pulling out a knife. "Back to the garrison with you, then?"

------ #wild west: au xiv style and #desertwalkers tag on this blog if you want to read more!

Zaine Striker belongs to @autumnslance , Klynt Gothawayn to @saesama

[dapperpea]

Plague of the West

Title - Plague of the West Fandom - Final Fantasy FFXIV (Weird West AU) Rating - G Characters/pairings - Archon, Klynt, Mathye, Zoissette Summary - The plague at the Saltlick, from Archon's point of view. Story unfinished. Notes - context: Klynt belongs to @saesama. Mathye belongs to @scrollsfromarebornrealm. Zoissette belongs to @driftward.

Something had gone around the Saltlick. It had started slow, one of the women here or there coughing, but that was nothing new. They’d been put up and isolated to stop the spread, as they normally would have.

Except the spread didn’t stop.

It wasn’t just those who took clients, or those who ate certain foods, or any common denominator they could think of. Slowly, it became everyone who resided in the Saltlick–Archon included.

It had taken a few days to get around to him, but by the time he started coughing, he knew what was going to happen. All there was was to bear it.  Not that Archon was taking it bravely; he’d seen the serious looks on Klynt and Doc Mathye’s faces as they spoke about it. He didn't want to die, and he especially didn't want to die slowly or painfully, but there was simply nothing else to do except let the doctor work out the problem. He watched the two of them enter Dana’s room in the little living space the boarders called home and come out with grave expressions. Well, Doc Mathye did. Klynt wore a mask. That probably meant something worse than if she hadn't.

Archon had holed up in his room, coughing fits interrupting fitful sleep, until he was told the entire tavern and everyone living there was being moved. He was too tired and nervous to object, simply wandering his way to the barn as instructed to find the stalls turned into pseudo-sickrooms. His stomach lurched, wondering if the worn wood and dirt would be his last home.

Dustwatch arrived, as well as garrison healers, though no one really seemed sure what to do. More people arrive to be quarantined, townspeople who’d been in the Saltlick recently, and a few others. Archon hoped it didn't get to them too, whatever it is. He curled on a cot, sweating and shivering under blankets smelling of mothballs and dust, and hoped Doc Mathye got on with fixing it already.

What surprised him was the level of help they received. People didn't come in, of course, and he didn't blame them, but the evidence of their assistance was obvious. Home-cooked meals in mismatched crockery, freshly laundered clothes, some fresh food from the fields or donated well-loved blankets to keep people warm during cold desert nights. Hell, Doc Mathye had set up a little workshop just outside, and that couldn't be healthy. He was going to get himself sick too.

He considered what might have happened back home. Much as he missed it, he knew Ul’dah had its particular issues. It talked about keeping people safe, but he had little doubt a quarantine there would have been much more than throwing food into a building and waiting until the sickness passed or the sick did. 

Thankfully, the sickness did seem to pass. Archon’s breathing evened out and the shivers came less frequently, though he still felt as if he’d been run over by a rroneek.

***

It didn't last. On the third day, the illness came back with a vengeance. Those townsfolk who hadn't been too sick when they came were taken to bed now, definitely ill.

Archon woke with a splitting headache and groaned quietly. His entire body hurt, every muscle tense, while he trembled violently under the blanket.

He heard someone near the entrance to his little sick-bay and cracked an eye to find Doc Mathye standing there, frowning. “You're not being dramatic, I suppose?”

“I’d be dramatic for a papercut, not the fuckin’ plague,” Archon rasped in a voice like sandpaper, ripped raw from days of coughing. “Please, doc. Figure this out. Dependin’ on you.” Maybe a little too much pressure, but it was true.

The doctor left and returned with another medicine, still bitter-tasting, and Archon could see the circles under his eyes, the stubborn set of his lips. This thing is going to kill them both, and everyone else in this barn, if Mathye doesn't figure it out soon. Archon felt useless–worse than useless, a drain, but there was little he could do.

Klynt had checked on him a few times as well, checked up on all the Saltlick boarders. He’d barely spoken a word to her, pretended to sleep more than once. He didn't want to see that worried face she made. She should sleep too. It wasn't her fault.

Zoissette had been around, as well as someone else he didn't know, a quiet, dark-skinned elf. Archon had no idea what they were doing. The fact that Zoissette was working on whatever plague this was probably meant it was quite a bad one, but also that they were putting their all into fixing it. At least there was that.

***

He almost missed the hubbub, not that he really knew what had happened anyway. He’d been dozing when a woman began shouting, screaming as if she'd been poisoned. Archon heard the jangling of the Duskwatch’s spurs and the retreating voice of the hysterical woman, then Mathye’s low, concerned tones. Towering sunflowers nearly reached the ceiling over by where it happened. Sunflowers inside? Perhaps he was hallucinating. Maybe Mathye wanted to cheer them up. That idea was ridiculous enough that he choked on a laugh to himself and the sunflowers faded from his attention.

***

Every breath came out as a wheeze, and every wheeze seemed to be a chant: Help. Help. Help. Every muscle was sore; coughing felt like being punched in the chest and the blankets were soaked with sweat as he shivered underneath them. If any stray thoughts made it past the weight of fatigue, they were quickly swallowed and choked by the foggy pressure that clouded his head. Archon alternated between sleeping, gazing out with glazed eyes at the corridor of the world he could see from his stall-cum-sickbed, and sleeping on his other side (which included the exhausting endeavor of turning over).

It was Zoissette who appeared at his little cell this time. Probably. She wore a strange mask–he couldn't blame her–but the figure was Zoissette-shaped, and the muffled voice brusquely ordering him to drink something sounded like her. She carefully handed him a flask from a collection and bustled off.

Archon was beyond the ability to determine what it was. It wasn't as if it could make him much worse, surely. He downed whatever it was in the glass and set it aside.

He didn't know how long passed. That wasn't unusual. What was different was a calm heaviness easing over him like a blanket, gradual but unrelenting. Some niggling part in the back of his mind buzzed in alarm, but perhaps Zoissette had simply decided it was kinder to give him a faster way out. Ah, well. She could have at least said goodbye. Archon huffed a sigh and let the medication pull him under into sleep.

***

He awoke the next morning.

This in itself was surprising enough, much less the fact that his breathing now sounded more like a whisper than a broken accordion. He still felt sore and weak, but actually rested, and the fog in his mind had lifted enough that he could put his present situation together with whatever Zoissette had given him. Getting out of bed still seemed like far too much effort, but perhaps turning over was–no, nope, still terrible. Well, Archon would take the wins he had. Breathing was a good start.

Zoissette arrived a while later with more of the same mixture as before. “Drink this.”

Archon took it. “Will it–” He had to pause for a coughing fit. “Will it put me to sleep again?”

“Yes. You need to rest. Even Klynt and Mathye are resting, and getting them to stop moving is a trial of its own.”

He’d completely forgotten about Klynt and Mathye. Archon felt a bit guilty–they had been a large part of the reason this medicine existed, after all, and had probably made themselves terribly sick doing so. He covered his awkwardness by drinking the medicine and handing the bottle back. Zoissette moved on wordlessly once more, and Archon let the blanket of unconsciousness cover over him.

***

It was dark outside when he woke next. He had no idea what time or day it was; it didn't really matter anyway, when they were all the same.

[to be continued]

[irisopranta]

FFXIVWrite Day 17 - Sally

“Well, slap my arse and call me Sally.” The chief of the Dustwatch, Kemakka uttered. He was shocked to hear the plot that caught his deputy in his scheme from the newcomers in town. The fact they Iris pretended that her wedding ring was stolen, while luring him to face off with Zekowa amazed him. Seeing that she was willing to put herself in danger like that for people she didn’t know made him mighty glad though.

The sheriff looked on to her husband. He was very intrigued by his gun. It looked a little different than the guns on the frontier. “Though I have to ask you sir, what is up with that gun of yours?”

Stephanivien took his gun out to show Kemakka all the fine details and the how it interacts with the aether transformer. Iris knew he would be rambling on for a while so she decided to walk off to get a cup of tea while she waited for Stephanivien to finish.

[carrefxur]

Day 21: Shade (FFXIV Writing Challenge 2024).

"Lei." The Dustwatch officer tips his hat to the hhetsarro as she takes a seat next to him, his break cigar about three-fourths used up. She idly sniffs at it, neither repulsed nor intrigued. She had smelled worse.

"Hohuloma. Been a while."

"Mhm. Not since, well…" He trails off, letting the drag on his cigar fill the silence. Her tail swishes back and forth against the wooden patio, her ears flicking idly. A rare display of anxiety for her, much to her chagrin seeing how calm Hohuloma was by comparison.

He starts again. "Heard you sent some smallfry to the hospital the other day."

"Yeah."

"…Thanks." When she gives him a confused look, the Tonawawtan elaborates. "For not killin' the kid. Sometimes you ought to put them in their place, remind them that the tales they hear in the saloon are rare as opposed to the norm."

"Mhm."

"You afraid you'll get done in some day? Eventually you'll get found by a real pro, you know. Not some young lad looking to make a name for himself."

"Not really, at least not anymore than anyone else is afraid of dying. Not much of a life if I have to hide in the shadow of a story from long ago." Lei sniffs the air. Acrid smoke fills her lungs, making her cough. She wasn't sure what else she expected. "Gods--anyway, way I see it, I have as much as purpose in death as I do in life. Those vultures in the sky?" She points to the faint shadows in the horizon gliding effortlessly. "They guide me from place to place, dictating each step of my life. My only friends. My hhetso. I view it as an honor to be under their wings for so long; when I die, I hope my pound of flesh can serve as a worthy offering for their guidance."

"I see." Hohuloma ashes out the cigar, standing up. A few black strands of hair escape from the bandana on his head, waving farewell to Lei. "Break's over. Gotta get back on patrol."

His shadow lingers over the hhetsarro's briefly, considering something. It grows long in the street, kicking up dust along its path as Hohuloma heads south. She watches him, remaining still the entire time. Waiting…

Wanting.

The shadow her past fades into the desert, leaving her to linger in the shade.

The birds continue to circle overhead. She looks up, this time with a faint smile.

"Can't think of a finer way to go out."

[mmorpg-escapism]

Zekowa's tale sheds a LOT of light on how things got to be the way they are. An impromptu peacekeeping force, before the Dustwatch was founded, taken over by Wihuwte - The Vulture - and turned to banditry. Lovely. And to top it off he's falsely arrested Zekowa's partners so there's no one to really help, not until Erenville and the WoL came along.

His plan is... risky. Distract, duel, done. For a mercy, it works? A meander around the desert, then down into the trap. My "heist movie" senses were going off, but this is a video game. Of course it worked.

And out comes the bracelet, cementing Zekowa's innocence and Wihuwte's guilt. Sweet!

[the-endless-traveler]

"Calamity" Rayne and the Sandchasers

[Dawntrail spoilers.]

The middle of the day was the most awful to bear in the arid land of Shaaloani, with the sun at its highest and the winds carrying the dry heat of the land. The town of Hhusatahwi was quieter than usual during that time, with most of the locals enjoying a well-earned drink in the local saloon, if they weren't facing the scorching sun while working the land or the various magitek machines dotting the land. Ceruleum was the gold of the area, fueling from trains to the daily life of its inhabitants, not unlike the Garlean Empire at its peak. Yet, the people maintained their traditions, with tribes attached to the natural course of life next to the gun-wielding bandits and a nascent railroad.

"Get out of ya corner, damn rabbit!"

A male voice emerged from ouside the Saloon, and quickly the townspeople gathered outside to watch the rare but not uncommon argument in the middle of the city. The man was in its mid-thirties, his black hair hidden by a typical leather hat shading his eye from the sun, while his three-days old beard was visible from all who looked at him. He was wearing a brown leather jacket and boots, and a gun was peeking from his shoulders, the metallic parts shining in the daylight.

"Come 'ere now! I know you're hidin' your sorry arse in this city!"

The doors of the Saloon opened to the sight of a gun-wielding Viera with a similar jacked, dark steel boots with heels scratching the wooden deck and a golden gun strapped at her back. She was wielding a mask hiding the bottom of her face, her sky blue eyes looking at the gathering with an air of anger. Someone dared to annoy her while she was enjoying her drink, one she finished before breaking the glass into her golden gauntlet.

- What is thy demand, for thee to harass those good people at their respite time?

Her voice claimed the typical accent of the Rava of Golmore with singing tones, but remained awfully calm despite the threat of an armed man on her shoulders. He drew his weapon, the spectators of the scene whispering of the traditional duels of Shaaloani. The sheriff wasn't here yet, leaving the town at the mercy of the two gunners staring at each other.

- Thee would trouble the peace of these fair people? Do I needeth to remind thee the law of Shaaloani? - Shaddap! Nobody swindles the Sandchasers, and nobody who did is makin' it alive! - Then...

She draw her gun, the golden metallic parts shining under the sun. At first glance, the weapon didn't had any room for bullets and she didn't seemed to carry ammunition either. The whispers continued, about who she was this time. The Sandchasers were a local group of aggressive bandits, one of them showing up directly in town was a testament of their strength... or the ties they could have with the Dustwatch.

- 'Tis a threat thee send to innocents, one thee shall not survive thyself. This, I shall not allow.

She lowered her mask, revealing to all the rest of her young features to the crowd. One of them shouted a name who took her a faint smile, her chosen name in those parts of the land.

"Calamity Rayne? Herself?!"

Whispers became joyful cheers for the Viera who simply rested her gun on her shoulder, her gaze of anger piercing her opponent with such cold it could freeze him on the spot. He stepped back on hearing the name, her story well known around bandits across Tural. Nobody knew why or how she ended in Tural or even in Shaaloani in the first place, but she was known from bandits and guard both as a ruthless hunter of man and beast, slaying whoever would trouble the peace with her blades or, as a respect to Shaaloani traditions, a golden-barreled gun.

- What?! You're Rayne?! - Many in this distant land hath called me by mine own chosen name. Others knoweth me as Mystral. - Urgh...! - Sheathe thy weapon anon, ere thee shall feel the bite of mine hands on thy throat. Thee have no chance to cut an inch of mine hair.

Taunted, the man fired his weapon to the Viera with anger on his face. A gust of wind erupted from her body and sent the bullet to the roof before she shot her own to his leg, crippling him with with a simple rubber bullet to harm nobody else but her target. With a beeast-like speed, she charged the man and pinned him on the ground, her hand on his throat as the perfect time: A Dustwatch official has shown his face.

- What's this?! A duel in the middle of the town?! - Sheriff, this sir fired first in front of thy townspeople. I disarmed him is self defense, honoring the laws of Shaaloani.

People nodded and supported her claim, her hand still crushing the throat of her target. - ... Rayne. Release the man... And I'm not the sheriff, again...

She obliged, sheathing her gun in her back once more and putting her mask back on her mouth. The scorching sun was different from the wet climate of Golmore, and she never really liked the constant heat. The Dustwatch officer quickly arrested the man, offering a look to the Viera walking out of the town.

- Rayne. - Yes? - Thanks. You're welcome here, y'know. - I know, but the Hunt calleth me. We shall meet again.

Her steps follow the call of the Hunt, and forever she answers.

[sen-ffxiv]

Dawntrail Msq reactions

Remembered I had this and that it's probably a better place for my blathering than plurk so maybe I'll use it more.

At Level 95, in Xak Tural, spoilers under the cut

-Estinien lmao! Why are you eating Sabotender?

-But now we are in a Western?

-Oh his birth name is cute

-"I understand your methods can be brutal..." LMAO

-The dustwatch have to be in on it it.

-Yep one of them is

-time to collect the excrement LMAO! Being an errand boy is eternal.

-dinosaurs everywhere o.o

-Next time we lay down The Law of the Land I guess.

x posted to my dreamwidth@givemeyourhonor

[crowmatose]

uncle.

[hayheadd]

Pathologic WC au names I'm proud of:

Katerina - Molesight (every mistress gets -sight so like get it)

Block - Ashenstep (general Ashes)

Saburov - Dustwatcher

Aglaya - Lilythorn (but like imagine that the prefix is what her parents gave her and the suffix is what she got herself)

Eva - Whispersong

Lara - Riverpebble (if you say it enough it miiight sound like Gravel . Plus her nickname in the original is water-vased)

[scrollsfromarebornrealm]

Prompt #24: Bar

------

(CW: Violence)

------

It was payday in Shaaloani, and business was booming. Not only did the residents of Stonewood have coin to spend, so did the inhabitants of the other towns. Adding in a circus, and a traveling caravan, and not only did the part-timers of the Cat’s Eye and Saltlick were being called in to work extra shifts, so were the Dustwatch deputies. Several of them were scattered around the bar (including Augustine) in various states of uniform/undercover clothing, making sure that the peace was being kept. The black-haired Towawatan sighed, rolling his shoulders.

“Here you go.” Riven was suddenly at his side, offering a glass of sweet tea from her tray. “You look like you’re about to fall asleep.”

“I want to.” Augustine admitted, accepting the glass. “I didn’t get a chance, because between either me or Collette handling that fight at the general store, it had to be me. She would have let that lot walk off and not issue any consequences.”

“Will you get a break tonight?”

“When your shift ends, I’m following you back and just going to collapse on the floor.” Augustine lifted the glass to his lips as Riven sighed.

“Not the floor.” She said sternly. “Make it to your mattress.”

“Hn.” Augustine took several swallows of sweet tea, his attention going back to the floor as Riven started to walk away. There’d been a few instances already of general rowdiness, and at least two morons getting more than handsy with the dancers. Riven hadn’t been on the stage tonight, electing to help waitress—though Augustine was certain Klynt would nudge her into performing before the weekend was out. Muffling a yawn, he started to take another swallow of the sweet tea…

Only to choke on it at the sound of Riven shrieking. The glass dropped from the deputy’s fingers as his head whipped up—there was Riven, getting pulled into some stranger’s lap, the Hhetsarro man pawing at her skirts. His companions were whooping and hollering, while some of the Saltlick regulars nearby had abandoned their tables and were rushing to the brunette’s aid—

Then it was the Hhetsarro’s turn to shriek—scream, actually, as Riven seized his beer stein. She slammed it on the side of his face with enough force that the glass not only broke, but embedded itself deep into the skin. And from the way the man’s howl suddenly sounded distorted, it sounded like she’d broken his jaw too. Augustine started to run over, just as Reinhardt made it to the table first. His hands reached out, snatching Riven and pulling her away just as she reared back for another blow. The Hhetsarro’s friends were jumping up to aid their fallen comrade, but K’ayla was there first—knives embedding themselves into one man’s thighs, while Augustine drew his gun and pointed the muzzle at the second friend’s forehead.

“Outside!” He bellowed. “Outside right now, and someone go get my brother!”

“Let me go!” Riven shrieked. “I’ll fucking kill him!”

“Get his ass, lil’ bit!” One Saltlick regular cheered.

“Let her at the varmint, Deputy!” Another one yelled, a chorus of voices agreeing with him.

“OUTSIDE!!” Augustine roared. “Anyone else starts anything and I’ll arrest the lot of you!”

[terracomets]

a scene in four storms where darkstone/darkmoon have a fight

[dont use/repost] [rbs>likes]

[howlingcliffs]

yearly ashes poster redraw ! october 2020 ,  june 2019 , dec 2018. all same characters with a few taken out (waspwhisper) and a few added in (poppymoon. old ones under cut

[dont use/repost] [rbs>likes]

[carrefxur]

Day 17: Sally (FFXIV Writing Challenge 2024)

The grounds were left in ruin, the hhetsarro stumbling out into daylight for the first time in years. At least, that's what it felt like, the sun resuming it's overhead vigil, blinding Lei briefly.

Across the yard stands a man in a brown coat, wearing a tan cattleman hat that casts a shadow over his face. Only upon removing the accessory does Lei see the shock and horror in his eyes; no doubt it was because of the blood on her hands. Her arms. Her legs. Her chest. Her face. Her hair. Even her tails and ears: no part of her body was spared the curse of the rot that flowed within each and every one of them.

She smiles, her pearly-white fangs shining against the light.

"I did it." The hhetsarro rushes forth, embracing the man who stood a fulm taller than her. He didn't move. That's alright, he's in shock that she managed to pull it off. "Aren't 'cha happy, Hohuloma?"

Lei feels a hand push her off - more of a shove, really. The blood clung to his coat. She left her mark on him, perhaps in more ways than one.

"Lei…" He starts, swallowing hard. "How many were in there?"

"All twenty-one'a 'em, including Ol' Bourbonbelly himself."

"…"

The silence hung in the air. After a moment, the Dustwatch officer put his hat back on, heading back down the trail. She watched as his hat disappeared beneath the valley, the tassel waving goodbye as a dust cloud blew by. Lei waves back for several seconds. Blood flies onto the dirt, seeping between the cracks. A horse whinnies in the distance.

She looks up to the blue skies above. A single dark cloud looms in the distance, moving in her direction at a rapid pace. Was this an omen?

"Nah, jus' some rain. Maybe it'll wash me off a'fore I can reach the lake."

Lei walks down the path opposite when she came and where Hohuloma departed from. There was no honor to be found within the halls, no grand fantasy being fulfilled.

It was a job. A job for the people -- no, a job for Shaaloani.

The only job for Lei.

[pigeontoez]

dustwatcher would be a wild ride in the canonverse lmaoo