#febdwc

[nafisabast]

DWC February Challenge Day 1 -  Love — Regret  @daily-writing-challenge 

TW: Light mention of off screen death, character unspecified.  Notes: Feat @jotaro-kuujo’s Na’tahna, who plays Na’fisa’s sister. 

“So... Why do you do it?”

Na’fisa, who was lost in her own thoughts snapped back to reality with a blink. The words rushed through her and they felt colder than the bitter, eternal chill surrounding Ishgard, though she knew Na’tahna didn’t mean the effect they had on her. Ever mindful of her body language- or at least trying to be, she casually readjusted her tail. Carefully shifting it behind her and in front of her taller sister whom sat behind her on the saddle, and back onto her lap on the other side.  Even still, the other Miqo’te was her sister, and one that knows her well. “I just mean, for curiosities sake. It’s all dark business, I don’t really care about that.” In a way of emphasis there was a gentle metallic noise of Na’tahna patting her sword. Her sister had a hint of wry amusement in her tone, though she was clearly trying to make sure she didn’t hurt Na’fisa. “No, I understand.” Na’fisa gave her sister a look over the shoulder for reassurance- which wasn’t too hard given her side-saddle, but now she risks being bobbed-off the chocobo. “Purrhaps we should make camp? It would be easier for conversation, and I believe we all could use a rest.” 

In reality, it gave her time to think of an appropriate answer. While her sister set up the sleeping arrangements she was left to make the fire- an easy task. Na’fisa pulled her coat tighter with the same disdain for the cold she has always had. Why does she do what she does? Well, why does anyone? Because they have to.  But, no. It wasn’t that simple, either. Foggy memory serves that she didn’t reach out or search for this power. However, it wasn’t that she was forced into this, either. Could she just stop? The firewood wasn’t ideal, but it would serve its purpose. She stacked it neatly with an ear twitch in Na’tahna’s direction. Both of them were taking it slow- either out of exhaustion from the travel, out of respect for the other’s space, or to be alone with their own thoughts. Whatever the reason... Na’fisa picked up one of the pieces of firewood she could identify as a decent conduit for her magic. A bit of focus and... fire! Very careful, controlled flames left the twig to ignite the little bit of kindling she set up.  Her thoughts carried to the other places she had been- the other lifetimes she fought tooth and claw to save everything. Could she have just stopped? Possibly. It would have been incredibly selfish, but she had considered it. When she was left bloody, beside the dead. She thought of the people she fell in love with, and those she held at arms length despite her feelings to protect herself, even if it did no one any good. She considered disappearing, retiring, living out her days wondering when the end would take them all in a fire of blinding light, or in the cold depths of darkness. Which would be less painful?

Neither really would. Not if she gave up. She knew this, deep down. She had to keep fighting. Her golden eye didn’t need to be exposed to catch those memories from Na’tahna. Na’tahna fought, and she wouldn’t give up either. Not here. Even if her fights weren’t for the entirety of the world, they were for her world. Na’fisa fought for her own, too. Even if it came off to those she has told over the lifetimes as noble, and heroic. It was just as selfish as running away. She did this for herself. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean that as... I hope I didn’t...”  Na’fisa grinned up at her sister with fangs exposed. “I know you didn’t. I was stalling for a good answer.” Na’tahna gave her a look in return. So Na’fisa raised a defensive hand. “Everyone likes a good answer! But, you are my sister. So... I do it for me.”  Na’tahna frowned in a way that said she didn’t believe that, or maybe she was just trying to understand. But it was the truth so she continued. “I would just find myself involved in a different way, if I didn’t do this. I do this so when I wake up in another lifetime, I will have no regrets. I do this... so that when it finally works out... I will be able to continue living.” 

For regret, of those she had lost.  And for love, of those she could yet save. 

[aislinnelaquorra]

1. Why did they pick their first class/job? What about the job they main now?

2. Does your WoL have a recurring nightmare (or more)? What is it?

Aislinne gives you a thoughtful look, "Well, when I was my previous self and I started as an adventurer in Gridania, I immediately picked up the bow." She sits back in her chair, "It had been a common weapon among the other Viera where I had come from and it felt familiar in my hand." Aislinne's tail curls around her hip and rests neatly on her lap, "Now, I fancy myself a Scholar. I had spent some time studying among the Students of Baldesion after becoming me and leaving the Steppe." ((Also asked by @huntinghare !!))

Aislinne's expression turns worried as she rubs the back of her hair, "That's.. a bit of a tough one. Hmm.." She hums thoughtfully, "Well, I suppose tough isn't right. I do, but it's tough to talk about." Aislinne sighs and kicks her feet a bit, "..The constant nightmare I have is about my death when I was a Viera. My travels had brought me to Dalmasca, close to my previous self's birthplace. It was there that I fell to an Imperial, who'd had enough of my meddling while I was evacuating a settlement.." ((This will be further detailed in a FebDWC that I have in a draft and.. haven't finished yet ahah;;;))

[nafisabast]

DWC February Challenge Day 2 - Protect  — Fray @daily-writing-challenge​

TW: Mention of Violence, Blood, Na’fisa and Na’tahna’s deaths.  Notes: Feat @jotaro-kuujo’s Na’tahna again.  Brain says ‘No plot development, only character exploration.’ Apparently. So we get to explore Na’fisa learning more about her sister this lifetime. 

Everything was different here. 

It wasn’t uncommon for Na’fisa- she was particularly used to adapting to her friends and companions suddenly being different. It tends to happen when you wake up in the middle of no where, being transported to a new world from a dying one. Expending the power of... well, what could she be referred to, a god? A planet? A mother? How could she expect entirely different lifetimes, worlds, circumstances to yield the same individuals? She didn’t. Na’fisa didn’t think on it too hard but every individuals experiences made up the person and how they turned out to be.  But now, sitting back in her seat at The Blood Sands, it felt... wrong. She couldn’t get her stomach to settle. Not like this. The early evening sun was raging down on them with heat that didn’t help her nerves. The ringing in her ears drowned out the crowds that circled the arena. Yet all she could focus on was Na’tahna.  Young Na’tahna. The baby sister who always ended up taller. The baby sister in her plate armor with sword that would be just a little-to-big for most women in hand. The fighter and her sword, confident, having fun while drawing blood of beast and man alike in an arena.  Criminals started here. Or so the other socialites had said. Now they expect fighters to have such confidence to put their lives on the line for entertainment because one stole the spotlight. Everyone wants their chance in the spotlight.  But this was how she fought. This is what she chose to fight for. So why couldn’t Na’fisa swallow the feeling, and support her sister?

Guilt.

The winds were wicked, and kept getting caught in the arena- kicking up sand that stung but was ignored, and tossing Na’fisa’s flow-y cloths around. She chose her attire poorly- her loose face wrappings kept whipping up and letting her golden eye catch glimpses of Na’tahna’s childhood using the power of her Echo. Memories flashed in her minds eye of fleeing their clan. Then living on the streets among refugees in the city. The fear young Na’tahna felt every time she spotted a Brass Blade was just adding to the emotions in Na’fisa’s stomach, bubbling like tar or spilled blood on the sands in evening sun. The memories always returned to the death. Her own death. This is the first lifetime she didn’t feel those memories first hand. Yet she could still see them with her powers beyond magic. The unfamiliar to herself Na’fisa stole from a merchant that had good connections because she was young and didn’t know any better at the time. The Brass Blades were called the moment her fingers lifted the purse away. They had no hesitation in bringing their swords down on her. The cost was her life. The cost was Na’tahna’s sister. No one was there for Na’tahna but herself. Somewhere along the line, Na’tahna learned her own blade. She lost her fear- it turned to confidence. The instinct to run became the confidence to smirk and ask who was willing to fall in fighting her.  Where younger Na’fisa wasn’t given the mercy to have been dragged off to the Sands to atone for her fast fingers; Na’tahna chose to jump into the coliseum and shed the frayed, scared girl her sister left behind.  Why couldn’t she remember this lifetime until she got here? Why couldn’t she have been here for Na’tahna? Na’fisa knew what it was like to watch her sister get cut down- over, and over in fact. She never wanted that for her sister. Isn’t that what she was fighting for? I’m here now.

Na’fisa’s claws relaxed and yielded from the poor fabric of her wraps.  The miqo’te spilling blood to the sands didn’t need protection anymore. In fact, with her skill, confidence, and desire- she would be valuable to be in front of Na’fisa in a fight, to allow her to magic and blade as she see fit. If she could let her baby sister protect her.

She could accept that.  She would. Because even without her own armor and sword, she could still find a way to protect Na’tahna too, after all. A way to protect all of those she cared about. Na’fisa had to succeed. 

[nafisabast]

DWC February Challenge Day 4 (Catch up) - Pose — Deception  @daily-writing-challenge

TW: None Notes: Na’fisa falls into a familiar place at a party.  Mentions: @jotaro-kuujo and @aislinnelaquorra

The soft chiming of bells rang through the room.  The sound seemed to bounce off of the mirror in front of the Miqo’te woman, and off of the basic, identical essentials that could be found in any of the rooms at the Quicksand. Had this been her room- that is to say the room she was renting at the inn- it would be a mess of her and her sister’s belongings. Costumes, weaving supplies, armor, and adventuring gear were carefully organized in a chaotic fashion across the room. This however, was Aislinne’s room for the night. Far from the once-viera woman’s home in Kugane, and away from her group’s adventuring hide-outs, she had to get a room to herself in the city.  So Na’fisa took it upon herself to make her lady friend help her get ready. Except she was nervous, and the unveiling of a new dress meant Aislinne had to wait until Na’fisa felt ready to be seen. So, here she stood. In front of the mirror, shaking the bells tied at the end of her side-bangs and over-analyzing the whitening ends of her hair instead of her work on the dress.  Aislinne’s words played over in her mind: “...Your hair's gotten lighter again.."  Lifetimes it took to get to the blonde ends it was at, and yet it felt like the more times she woke up somewhere new, the more rapid the lightening of her ends got.  Maybe she would dye it. Maybe she would keep it, as a reminder of everything she has gone through.  

With a sigh she dropped the dangling strand of hair next and took a step back to once-over again. From her black and gold make up, to the shimmering gown, to her flower decored heels. Not a thread out of place, and yet, she couldn’t help but feel like something was off.  Fluffy black tail swished against the gown’s layers behind her.  Something was off.  One jade eye and one golden eye stared back at her from the reflection. Her wraps.  The exposed feeling was bad, but realizing she felt exposed by not wearing a piece of cloth felt worse. When had she grown dependent on the wraps? Suck it up, kitty-cat. She told herself as she took a deep inhale, spun on her heels, and sashayed toward the door. Time to knock em dead. 

-----

The plus side is that the party was on home turf, as much as home turf could be. If things got uncomfortable, she trusted herself to slip away if she needed. Social graces were as much of her thing as anything else, however. So she swallowed her nerves and followed her friends through the halls. Aislinne gave her hand a comforting squeeze as Wulfric lead the group. Na’fisa gave a small smile back to her shorter companion. Aislinne spent most of the time on the walk here hyping her up as much as Na’fisa complimented the Auri woman’s own fit. It was as if she could sense something was bothering her.  The doors opened ahead of them letting light chatter and the elegant music spill out into the hall. With an ear twitch, Na’fisa tilted slightly to try and get a glimpse past her dark friends large shoulder to see who would be entertaining them tonight. Her bangs chimed as they hit her chin, which seemed to catch the observant Raubahn’s attention. The Bull turned and let out a jovial laugh before greeting and whisking away their Wolf of Ala Mhigo. Aislinne smiled meekly, watching Raubahn and Wulfric. “Oh, he is much more imposing now- I’m only half his height...”  Na’fisa was pulled from various memories rushing in her mind as she watched the dark skinned men. “Most people are intimidated by him, for what it is worth.” As if she needed her Echo to know that. Aislinne was already scanning the room. For a second, it made Na’fisa wonder if she was about to be left on her own. Instead, the auri woman whispered, “I see a few friendly faces. Would you like me to introduce you?”  Relief exhaled from her lungs, “Please; It will be a lot easier to get reacquainted with a mutual friend to introduce us.”  With a more sincere smile, Aislinne tugged Na’fisa by the hand toward other well-known individuals in her circle to introduce her. 

Introductions, mingling, very light drinking, and even a bit of finger food went by in a whirl. Familiarity was setting back in for Na’fisa, and thankfully Aislinne was relaxed much more now too. With her previous mentor now distracting her, Na’fisa was able to slip away to do some more prowling. She was hoping to get up to speed and gather information, and only so much of that could be done in social conversation that involved the people currently closest to the person looking.  Heels clicking against the stone floor as she passed by a group of bards supplying the music for the night to pluck another shellfish from a tray. Not even needing to look while she did, her eyes passed over the room carefully. Only so much could be done to combat the rushing memories, though, and a headache was slowly starting to throb. To try and deal with it, Na’fisa paused in a mostly clear nook of the room near a corner.   Unfortunately for her, as much as she was waiting for a chance to gather information away from her friends- it seemed like someone was waiting for her to be alone. “Excuse me, Miss.” Without even realizing it was happening, the fur of her tail rose on end. Na’fisa turned and let her eyes drop to the source of the voice. Seeing the face of the lalafellin man only sent goosebumps across her skin.  “Lord Lolorito.” Despite herself, she flashed a practiced smile and gave a curtsy, grabbing the edge of her gown and dipping only to be hit with a head-rush of memories at his response: The lalafellin lord was narrow-eyed analyzing her with a finger tapping against his water glass. “I cannot help but feel like I know you from somewhere.”

[nafisabast]

DWC Feburary Challenge Day 3 (Catch up) - Shine  — Shadow @daily-writing-challenge​

TW: Maybe spoiler-y for post HW, due to theory talk in-character.   Notes: Wulfric and Na’fisa go out to find materials, and get to talk about some things on their minds. Focuses more on my own lore for Na’fisa, only vaguely mentioning story stuff AFAIK As usual, @jotaro-kuujo mention for Wulfric and Na’tahna

Na’fisa Bast caught herself in between. The urge to break out into a bout of bright laughter was quelled only by one of her mortal enemies- the force before her: water. The seemingly pleasant, knee deep water was babbling and rushing harmlessly against the rocks of the sometimes river before them due to recent miraculous rain in Thanalan. 

“Come on, there’s no need to scowl.” Wulfric joked as he finished hauling his outerwear off. She wanted to desperately to give her usual laugh- she adored when he looked for any excuse to remove his shirt, and not getting his clothing wet was one that he always jumped on. But she herself was dreading crossing the river. It was only knee deep, and the glaring, vengeful-at-the-recent-rains sun would embrace her to dryness in no time- if she avoided getting all of her layers of flowing cloth wet.  “I know.” She sniffed as if she wasn’t pouting. “It is a good day. I got to see ‘Tahna, we are going hunting, and there is going to be an amazing dress at the end of it all.” Na’fisa was hyping herself up more than informing him, of course. She grabbed and hoisted as many ends of cloth from around her knees as she could to her hips and began the trudge across the rocks.  Don’t fall. Don’t fall. Don’t fall.  The only time she ever struggled with balance was when water was involved.  “Speaking of Tahna...” Wulfric started in that way- the way you could tell he had been thinking on something and looking for a way to bring it up. She cocked a visible eyebrow as she glanced up from her soaked feet at him. As if feeling her gaze, he twisted around to walk backwards- Fisa hoped he wasn’t planning a prat fall to make her laugh at the expense at his clothing. Eh, maybe if they were in deeper waters...  “Does she dye her tail, too?”  Blink. Temporarily forget where she is. “What?” His grin turned sheepish. “Well, I assumed because her hair is different that she dyed it. But her tail is blue, too.” Now she giggled, she couldn’t help it. He was paused in a back-step in the spray of the river catching a rock she would use to jump across. Glistening, smiling at her... Not this lifetime, Fisa.  She shook her head to clear her thoughts. “No, no. That is very fair and I appreciate being assumed to be the normal one.” The Miqo’te woman elegantly bound across the rocks, and twisted around Wulfric to the other side. Silently appreciating his distraction from her enemy. “Her fur started darker, almost black. It lightened over the years to the teal you see now.” Loose fabric gets released from claws and a twist into a high kick shakes them loose to gravity. “My hair started pitch-black, as well.” She admits.  “Oh?”  “Mhmm. Magic and the Light have.. taken color from it, I think.” Oh, this isn’t a subject she has brushed upon with this Wulfric yet. A glance at him to catch his expression while he redresses says that he seems unbothered, however. So she butterfly twists, lands, and focuses on him. “What about you, silver W’ulf?” Fangs flash with the doting nickname. “Did the Light take your color?”  Laughing, said locks shaking loose in his face. “No, that’s age. It effects some of us.” Ooh! So close to the truth.  “How do you feel about it?” “Age?” “No!” Hands to her hips. Her glare is only met with laughter that makes her smile. “The Light, and the Darkness.”  He uprights, and stretches. “It makes sense, with everything we have learned. The crystals, the Ascians... Light versus Dark is a reoccurring theme.” While he spoke and they walked, she was pretending to check over her weapons. Thoughts of telling him everything just to hear what he would say about it crossed her mind frequently. He was brilliantly smart and studied to boot. But everything involved a lot of probability, and that conversation would last months for them. “I cannot help but feel like... something knows.” It was only so often she struggled to put her thoughts to words. “Something does, obviously, to keep sending me along to the next lifetime. But it feels like something else knows, too. Like I have a shadow following me as I skirt the line between the two.”  His expression was one of understanding, to some degree, with the smallest hints of surprise that she knew to look for. The bite she had on her lip lessened.  “I’d like to talk about this more.” His eyes found hers. “After we get the materials for your dress. Maybe over tea or coffee?”  As usual, he made a grin creep along her lips. “Deal.”