#ffxiv 5.4 spoilers

[rbillustration]

Dread Hope, the Fatebreaker

Prints available here!

[ainyan]

He’d been told about the changes wrought in the Empty by the final confrontations with Eden. He’d been told that life had come once again to that which had been beyond dead. He’d been told many things, but he’d never expected to actually see it with his own eyes. And yet here he was, standing amidst the waving grasses, perched on the edge of a short cliff overlooking waters of a vibrant blue. Around him he heard birdsong; flickers of butterfly wings danced amidst the patches of flowers scattered along the edges of the lake. A giant multicolored crystal speared upwards from the waters, reminiscent of some of the structures found in the Bestway Burrows upon the moon.

And in the distance, Eden itself was barely visible within the sprawling branches and verdant leaves of a great tree rising in the distance. He’d been reassured that the sin eater - the Ascian - was no more, and that its pale hulk was inert and inoperative, the life-giving aether it had stolen from the world slowly dispersing back into the ecosystem, revitalizing it one steady ilm at a time.

At his side, Kal’istae stood with him, her fingers tangled up together as she held them before her, a faint tension singing through her small, slight frame. Distracted from the view, he glanced down and noticed that her tail-tip was twitching madly, lashing the backs of her calves without cease. “What’s wrong?” he murmured.

She flinched at the sound of his voice, then looked up, dark eyes wide and guileless, her smile patently false. “Nothing at all. What do you think of the miracle that Ryne and Gaia have wrought here?”

“I think you had as much to do with it as they did,” he replied steadily, “but it is magnificent nonetheless. That does not explain why you’re so tense, Kali.”

Wincing, she made a visible effort to relax. “I’m sorry, Thancred - I’m not trying to steal from this moment. You shouldn’t worry about me - look out there! You and Urianger had as much to do with it as we did; be proud,” she whispered, “of what you have achieved through your love and belief for your daughter.”

He reached out and buried his hand in her hair, tugging lightly until she fetched up against his side. “I am proud of me, and Urianger, and you and the girls, I swear. I look out over this miracle and I wonder what it will look like in a year’s time - in ten years, in a hundred. What will it look like when the aether has stabilized enough that people can begin moving out here, building here, living here?” Kal’istae wasn’t able to stifle the soft sob that rose in her throat, and Thancred turned, alarmed. “Honey!”

She turned into him as his arms came around her. “I’m not - it’s just…” She trailed off, fighting for enough breath to speak. He said nothing, merely stroked her head and crooned comfortingly. Finally, she pulled back, scrubbing at her eyes. “I’m so happy for you, Thancred. I’m so happy you get to be happy.”

Confused, he took a hold of her shoulders and shook her lightly. “Of course I’m happy. I’ve been happy for a long time, Kali.” When she frowned at him, he shook her again. “I’m with you. I love you, and you love me, and knowing you’re by my side has gotten me through a lot of rough spots.”

She rubbed the heel of her hand across her eyes, peering up at him. “But not all the way happy. You haven’t had Ryne. Now you can have her.” His continued confusion must have shown in his face, because she exhaled heavily. “You’re going to stay.”

“Ah.” The word whispered out, carried on a gentle puff of air. “I’m considering it,” he admitted steadily, and watched her tail and shoulders droop, her gaze fall away. “It’s been a long, hard fight for all of us, but Garlemald is on the mend, and they no longer have need of my especial services. Riol is more than capable of handling what little need there is for intelligence and espionage amongst the Scions. You yourself have laid rest to the great threat against which the Scions were formed to stand.”

Her hands shot out to capture his and she lifted her face. “Then do it,” she said urgently. “Stay here with your daughter, watch her grow up, help rebuild this shattered world as you helped rebuild a shattered nation. There’s no reason not to!”

His fingers curled around hers. “If that is the case, love, then why are you so sad?”

Her lip trembled, but she neither pulled away nor looked away, and he was impressed; so often she sought to flee uncomfortable personal conversations between them - this, then, must be very important to her. “I will miss you,” she whispered.

Ah. “Kali, even were I to remain here, it would change nothing about what is between us,” he said firmly, drawing her closer. “The bridge across the Rift is open and stable; I need only walk through the mirror in the Ocular to return home whenever I wish. And you need not even do that; your aetheric connection to the First means that you can Teleport here on a whim, from anywhere.”

Lavender-edged eyes blinked in incomprehension. “We will live on different worlds.”

Laughing gently, he coaxed her the rest of the way into his arms. “Have we not practically since we met, love?” he teased gently. “The distance between us would be no more than it has ever been as I have served the Scions’ interests and you have followed your wandering heart.”

Biting her lip, she leaned into him, brow furrowed. “You’ll have a life here.”

“And will your life there exclude me?” he wanted to know.

Indigo eyes flashed wide, filled with indignation. “Of course not!” Then she flushed. “Oh.”

Overwhelmed with love, with adoration, he laughed again and dropped to his knee, keeping his arms firmly around her. “Oh, indeed. Sweetest Kal’istae, my own love, I have tried to show you in every way I know that I am yours, as you are mine. Even should I make a life here, you will always be a part of it. The biggest part of it, and the best part of it.”

She gazed down into his upturned face and reached out to frame it with her hands. “You’re my everything,” she said simply.

It hadn’t been how he’d planned it. He’d had it mapped out in his head, from beginning to end. But as she gazed down at him, eyes shining with love, with adoration, her hands soft against his cheeks, he knew that all of the planning in the world would not have given him as perfect an opportunity as now.

He dropped one arm away, keeping the other snug around her hips to prevent her from leaving. When he went digging in one of the copious inner pockets of his jacket, she frowned curiously and canted her head to one side. “Where did I… ah! There.”

When he pulled out a small enameled box, she tilted her head to the other side, her perplexity growing. “What is that?”

He thumbed open the lid, his arm sliding from about her as he took her hand in his, clenching the box lightly in his fingers. “Promises,” he told her, gazing up into her puzzled eyes. “A promise asked, and a promise offered.”

For a moment, a breathless moment, she still didn’t understand. Then her gaze dropped from his to the box, and what was inside.

The stone was violet, a rich, dark bluish-purple that shone with an inner light. Upon the faceted surface of the stone she could see was etched the same meteor symbol that was inked between her shoulder blades. It was set in platinum, and the pale silvery metal gleamed against the dark blue gem and the black velvet in which it was housed.

“I - Thancred,” she breathed, and when her eyes lifted to his, they glistened with unshed tears and gleamed with a terrible, glorious hope. “You can’t mean…”

He gazed up at her, and for once did not bother hiding his nerves or uncertainty behind a cocky smile. He allowed her to see what no one else was ever permitted; his doubts. His fears.

His hopes.

“Please, Kali,” he whispered. “Marry me. Be my wife, my bondmate, my partner from now until eternity ends. No matter how far apart we may be, let us be bound together as completely as any two people may be.”

Her mouth opened and closed, but she seemed at a loss for words. The silence stretched between them, growing ever more brittle before she finally managed to take control of her brain. “Thancred,” she croaked, voice gone hoarse, “are you sure-”

“Yes!” His affirmation was explosive. “Gods, yes, never more sure!” Sucking in a breath and easing his grip before he hurt her, he continued, “I have had this in my pocket since you first said you loved me. I just needed the right time, the right place.” He hesitated. “The right words. Kali, please!”

There were no words more right. “Yes!” The word exploded from her, and her eyes grew wide, unfettered hand rising to cover her mouth as she stared at him. Then she dropped it away, revealing a brilliant, if unbelieving, smile. “Yes, gods - yes!”

He didn’t question it. He didn’t confirm it. He merely dropped the box away, uncaring as it struck the ground and rolled away. The ring remained in his fingers and he slid it onto hers in the same gesture, sealing their promises in an unending circle. “I swear to you,” he said, staring up into her eyes, “you will never regret this.”

“I have never regretted anything about you,” she murmured as she leaned in to capture his mouth with hers. Against his lips, she smiled, and he could taste the sweet tears of her joy. “And I have no intention of starting. My love,” she whispered, and lost herself in his kiss as his arms came around her, holding her as if never to let go again.

[lynbeck]

Progression of knowing “everyone loves G’raha Tia” throughout ffxiv 

Step 1: He looks kinda edgy, I wonder why he’s so popular Step 2: Oh, that is kinda emotional, I see Step 3: -Gets kinda spoiled but without details- so... there’s more to it??? Step 4: Oh shit there IS more to it Step 5: OH SHIT THERE IS MORE TO IT!!!! Step 6: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Anyways this is the situation now

[wildstar25]

SCREAMING!!! I AM FEELING THE LOVE IN THIS CHILIES TONIGHT!!!!

[snow-system-wol]

Wolgraha Week, Day 5: Comfort (+ bonus: confession!)

(an excerpt from a S'ria Snippets chapter, vague allusions to 5.4 plot)

S'ria expected G'raha to be riding that high for days. After all, this was truly an accomplishment for the history books – an accomplishment he made happen, rather than just earnestly recording.

However, something about returning to Mor Dhona made him reset to his prior self-consciousness, blind to his own place among the Scions.

"Full glad am I to have helped at all, with something so important." There was something bittersweet in his voice that S'ria had come to easily recognize by now. 'I could've done more.' It'd been there many times, when he listened to G'raha, and rarely was he sure how to convince him otherwise – but he wasn't going to just let that go, not this time.

S'ria stepped closer, placing a hand on G'raha's shoulder. G'raha, startled, met S'ria's eyes – even if that required him to look upwards a good bit.

"G'raha, with all the respect I can give – you're slightly an idiot in regards to yourself." He ignored the look of confused indignation on G'raha's face and continued on undeterred. "–for somehow not recognizing that you're actually brilliant. You're 'glad to have helped at all'? I, and everyone else, all know that this would've been truly impossible without you. And I don't just mean your Allagan blood, I mean the fact that you just continuously pulled lost knowledge out of your head like it was nothing. I mean, you memorized an entirely new type of magic after it was shown on a screen for literally seconds."

"I–I don't–"

S'ria, uncharacteristically, pulled him into a hug. "...I hope you weren't about to disagree with me – it's the truth. I want you to understand how much you continue to impress me at every turn."

G'raha stood there, chin resting on S'ria's shoulder, caught between the competing urges to start furiously blushing or to start crying. He didn't know what to say to that. For a man being told how much intelligence his mind held, it was rather blank at the moment. The recent sleep deprivation was not helping at all. Twelve help him, that must've been why the only words that managed to tumble out of his mouth were an "oh", followed immediately by a dumbfounded, "I love you".

Oh no. G'raha didn't tell him this for a reason, S'ria was probably suddenly very uncomfortable. He prepared to be pushed away, for S'ria to berate him in some manner. Instead, he remained as he was, arms still wrapped loosely around G'raha.

"I know."

And that was almost worse, having the lack of subtlety he'd shown confirmed for him. How long ago did S'ria figure this out? He didn't seem… upset, though. And he'd spent all this time with him lately, despite knowing about those feelings. Which meant… which meant what exactly? That wasn't clear.

[ravingsockmonkey]

Thoughts and Theories for the MSQ

I just was able to wrap up the ShB role quests + all of the follow up quests yesterday, and I've been chewing on what was said for a bit. Putting everything under the cut for spoilers for both 5.4 and 6.4.

The end of the role quests for 5.4 have you bringing Unukalhai to the First where him and Taynor begin to train together to open rifts to the Thirteenth. They get the hang of it and Taynor comments how similar Unukalhai's aether feels to his own - which makes me think they are different parts of the same sundered soul.

Beq Lugg works with the three of you to send a porxie through a rift to gather information on the state of the Thirteenth because both Unukalhai and Cyella want to see if it's possible to save the shard. The porxie is retrieved, and Beq Lugg comments that it will likely take years to process the data. Which would be a problem if it wasn't for time flowing differently on the First vs the Source. This also gives us an established investment in the Thirteenth on the First so our hitting them up later won't be out of left field.

All of the hunters you teamed up with during the various role quests then band together promising that when the time comes they will also help Unukalhai with the Thirteenth. Looks like we'll have a pretty big crew to help between our friends on the Source and the First.

So I think our going to the First to ask about sending some of their extra light to the Thirteenth is going to coincide with Beq Lugg's research being completed. We'll be able to give them the information we've gathered as well and likely show them the scales we've been using for protection. If the hunters will be joining us, then that will be important so they can be safe as well.

Unukalhai technically doesn't have a physical body due to Circumstances, so he's existing on borrowed time in the First which I can't imagine will fare much better back on the Thirteenth. With him and Taynor's aether being so similar, and my thinking they are the same sundered soul, I wonder if he'll end up having to merge with Taynor to avoid disappearing entirely.

[groovesucksatvideogames]

One thing I really like about Sphene is that she gave me the same first impression that the Crystal Exarch did, and even if it wasn't intentional by the writers I really liked how it colored my experience with her. Spoilers, obviously.

I started playing FFXIV around when like... patch 5.4 was current, so I dunno if my experience is universal but I did not like the Exarch at first. He was majorly suspicious to me by being extremely cagey about answering my questions and I felt he was really flippant about the fates of the Scions that he dragged to the First against their will. And let's be real, his true identity is the worst kept secret in the game, so that made it more frustrating. Like dude, I know you, why are you acting like this? I believe my actual thoughts about him were "this guy's kind of a tool". But of course I get to the end of Shadowbringers and any suspicions I have about him are misguided, because he was 100% genuinely on my side the whole time. G'raha isn't some manipulative chess master, he's just kind of a lousy actor desperately trying to keep a dozen plates spinning to avert a calamity while finally getting to talk to his crush again after a few hundred years!

Which brings us back to Sphene, who is immediately suspicious and being really bad at dodging all of our questions! Sounds familiar, huh? The supposed queen of the kingdom is wandering alone in this lightning-ravaged wasteland and playing nice with people from the other kingdom hers just attacked? OK lady. Also her medieval regalia looked entirely out of place amidst this cyberpunk dystopia which was another point against her. You don't look like you belong here at all, what is your DEAL. But then I thought... I'm having the same exact reaction to her that I did with the Exarch. Maybe there's more to this. Maybe she is actually genuine and wants to help us! The times where she TRIES to tell us something important but changes her mind at the last moment for example. Maybe she really is powerless against Zoraal Ja's thirst for conquest and wants to help the resist- aaaaaaaand she's an unfeeling AI who wants to steal all the souls on the Source. OOPS.

The similarities between Sphene and the Exarch made me want to give her the benefit of the doubt and that in turn made the cutscene where she admits that yeah, Zoraal Ja's right, she just wants to use us all for soul batteries hit even harder. It felt like a real betrayal because I WANTED to trust her! Again, not sure if it was intended by the writers but that's how I took it and it made Sphene that much better of a villain for me. I WAS ROOTING FOR YOU, YOU WEIRD COMPUTER PRINCESS.

[sparkwithinme]

I really didn't realize how long it's been since I posted... gosh. x_x Apologies for being mia so bad... I have been lurking a bit, but yeah. Uh. Life sure has been happening. lol Have few things I will probably post, but I hope you can all forgive me if I plug a thing first?

SO I'm taking commissions again. This time just sketch ones, as I don't think I have it in me to do full finished work right now. Since keeping things simple, using Ko-Fi for this!

(Trying to raise funds to get a new desktop that isn't 15 years old, so I can continue to play and stream FFXIV (my desktop couldn't even run the benchmark cry XD), but also have lot of software and things I want to do that I haven't been able to... I really need something not so vastly behind. lol)

More examples: (5.4 Spoilers)

(Yes, I know mostly ffxiv, but I'm happy to draw not!XIV things too of course :3b)

[casualjacobwrites]

FFXIV Write 2024 Prompt #3 - Tempest

Continued from Prompt #2.

More specific spoilers for patches 5.4 and 6.0 in this one. Didn't make the deadline on this one, but fortunately the deadlines don't start until September 8. Also, these are unedited and rushed (which is the idea!) so there's likely some mistakes, grammatical and otherwise.

Reminder: I'm taking on the added challenge of trying to weave the prompts into a continuous story rather than separate little entries. I probably will write other things during this month, but the idea for bringing Emmanellain and Sicard together amid a huge crisis is, for right now, really making my brain happy. If it works, I'll edit it all and make it a proper story.

Word Count: 1,537

__

Sicard lowered the spyglass with a curse then shouted, "All hands on deck!"

The collected crew rejoined with a collective "Aye aye," and ran off in separate directions. The Roegadyn woman who'd reassured Honoroit earlier began pulling at a large canvas cover to reveal one of the cannons aboard the ship. The lalafell man climbed the mast with surprising nimbleness for one of his diminutive stature. He managed to reach the crow's nest within half a minute and set up with a spyglass aimed in the direction of the smoke. A moment later a bell sounded, the rapid clanging loud enough to rouse anyone from the deepest sleep. A slender elezen man with deeply tanned skin repeated the captain's call for all hands on deck.

"Lafotal, the moment you see anythin' you tell me," Sicard shouted to crow's nest.

"Aye, captain!"

"Wastgeim, get the cannons prepped, an' don't be stingy with the powder this time."

The roegadyn woman paused in her work long enough to give a quick salute. "Aye, captain!"

"Cannons? I-is that really necessary?" Emmanellain followed Sicard back to the helm so closely the hyur swore he could feel the lordling's breath on his neck.

"Don't know yet," he said, his eyes locked toward the bow. "But I'd rather have 'em ready and not need 'em than to have a hole blown in my ship."

"The ship is on fire. They need help, not weapons."

Sicard inhaled sharply while grinding his teeth. Even in the middle of a crisis he manages to find a way to vex me. Out loud he asked, "And how does a ship catch fire?" He gestured in the direction of the distressed vessel.

"I-I don't know," Emmanellain stammered. "An accident?"

"Could be," Sicard allowed. "But could also be they were attacked by another ship we can't see waitin' to ambush and rob us. Worse, it might be someone set it up to lure in unsuspectin' crews so they can kill everyone on board and take our ship for their own. So forgive me for thinkin' about protectin' ourselves first."

"That's ludicrous! Who on earth would set their own ship on fire in the middle of the ocean as a trap?"

For a long moment Sicard was too stunned to respond. When he regained his ability to speak, his words came out in a roar. "Pirates, you bloody imbecile!" A throbbing pain shot through his temple and he knew his face must be red. " There's no trick in the book too low down or dirty for anyone greedy enough to try, an' I should know. I used to be a pirate."

Emmanellain stared at him, his mouth twisting in horror. "Did…did you ever hurt people like that?"

Sicard started to say, "Of course I did," but when he noticed the way the other man looked at him, his speech failed. Emmanellain had of course known he was a pirate, but this was the first time he'd been forced to consider what that meant and it had repulsed him.

Never before in his life had Sicard been so consumed by shame and guilt. Sure, he had turned over a new leaf after running afoul of the Warrior of Light and the Scions of the Seventh Dawn. He and his crew had provided vital aid during the End of Days and for the first time he could say they had made a positive difference in the world. Yet, in the back of his mind he carried the reminder of his past misdeeds and the knowledge he could never truly atone for the many terrible things he had done. Each day since his duel with Admiral Bloefhiswyn he'd dealt with a constant swirling undercurrent of regret, but now it was turning into a raging tempest of sorrow and self hatred. To know Emmanellain de Fortemps thought lesser of him as a man cut far deeper than he wanted to admit.

"This is hardly the time or place to discuss that," he snarled. So what if some Ishgardian noble thought he was a monster? What did the spoiled second son of House Fortemps know about his life? No one who lived in luxury could ever understand why he made the choices he did. "I've got a job to do. You and Honoroit need to get belowdecks 'til I give the all clear."

"No."

Sicard swore his neck muscles creaked as he slowly turned his head toward Emmanellain. "What do you mean 'no'?"

"I want to help." His reply was earnest and spoken as if it was the most natural thing.

"Did you miss the part where I said we might be headin' into a trap?" He shook his head. "No offense, mate, but you have neither the stomach nor the skill for fightin', an' if this all goes to pot I can't be worried about you gettin' a splinter."

"I'll have you know fought in the Dragonsong War alongside the Warrior of Light!" Emmanellain's voice grew higher in pitch, an obvious sign of his wounded pride.

Sicard slammed his hand against the wheel and whirled to face the elezen. He leaned in until their faces were mere ilms apart and growled, "Get your arse belowdecks 'fore I kick it down there for you."

Just as Emmanellain's mouth opened to respond, another voice interrupted. "I got the supplies, my lord." Amid all the chaos and arguing Sicard hadn't noticed Honoroit had slipped away. The manservant stepped onto the quarterdeck carrying a large leather sack.

"What in the hells is that?"

"Apothecary supplies," Emmanellain replied. "Potions, poultices, bandages, and anything one might need in an emergency."

The smug grin on his face was doing little to keep Sicard's urge to deck him at bay. "An' what am I supposed to do with that?"

"You said it yourself. You don't know what might happen when we get to that ship, but regardless of if we're rendering aid or drawn into battle, you're going to need healing." He waited for Honoroit to set the bag on the ground then crouched down to rifle through its contents. After pulling out a selection of vials, he slipped them into slots in his belt and stood. "I'm no conjurer, but I am trained in basic field medicine and can still help."

"No, no, too dangerous." Sicard refused to budge. The thought of Emmanellain being injured or worse filled him with an odd sort of anxiety. He ignored the little voice inside him that said his worry had nothing to do with the potential loss of profit from their new business venture. "Both of you should stay below."

"Now see here--"

Honoroit raised his voice to interrupt his master. "If I might make a suggestion, Master Spence?"

Sicard scrubbed a hand over his face. It was bad enough to deal with the lordling's thick skull, but the younger elezen was too clever by half. "What? An' keep in mind we don't have much time."

The manservant nodded. "What my lord said about his experience in the Dragonsong War is true."

"Thank you," Emmanellain cut in.

"Yes, my lord is quite adept at keeping himself safe in battle to the point where he has never needed to draw his sword."

"Yes, that's ri--hey!"

Honoroit ignored Emmanellain's protests. "But he has seen a variety of injuries both on and off the field and knows which medicines to use. I myself have studied a bit of alchemy and anatomy, and I'm quick on my feet."

Sicard considered the page and rubbed his chin. "What you're sayin' is he knows how to avoid a fight, an' you'll keep him out of my way?"

The page smiled. "Yes."

The hyur sighed. "Fine, but if either one of you causes a problem for me, I won't hesitate to toss you overboard, profit or not." It was an empty threat, but they didn't need to know that.

"I see flags, captain!" Lafotal called down from the crow's nest.

"What colors?" Sicard asked.

"'Ard to say with the light." The lalafell's silhouette leaned forward with his spyglass firmly attached to his eye. He muttered something unintelligible then shouted, "Garlean, sir." Below him the crew fell silent. Though Eorzea was now allied with what remained of Garlemald, it was hard not to feel some sort of apprehension upon encountering one of their ships at sea. Decades of imperial invasion and oppression couldn't be forgotten or forgiven in such a short time.

"Anything else?" Sicard asked.

"Ship's still aright. No sign of anyone on deck." No one spoke while Lafotal continued reporting. "Smoke, no fire."

"No fire. That's good, right?" Emmanellain asked.

Sicard shook his head. "Just means we don't see the flame. Could be an engine fire." Above him Lafotal was adjusting the focus on his spyglass. Sicard saw him jump backward as if startled.

"There's a body, captain, an' it's not a Garlean."

That was a strange observation to make. There was not enough light nor were they close enough for Lafotal to see a uniform. "How can you tell?"

"Fishback, sir. There's fishbacks on the ship!"

Both Sicard and Emmanellain took a step back then looked at each other. An already strange evening had just become even stranger.

[delborovic]

i just wanted to draw Them 🥺

[ff14hermes]

[usagi-mitsu]

Prompt #4 Baleful

Fair skies promising new adventures. Or sorrow for her people.

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast // #ffxivwrite2021

Prompt #4: Baleful

The tower was prominent. A tall eyesore in the middle of the countryside. As if a painters brush had slipped, drawing an ugly black streak across the finished artwork.

But this was no work of art, it was the the Lochs. And the black streak was no such thing, but a distant tower.

Lyse stood atop the Ala Mhigan wall of the Ala Mhigan quarter. Within the city walls, life went about it’s usual course. If one either couldn’t see the tower daily or was not informed about the non-changes of this this ominous building, one might actually be able to forget it existed. Lyse was not one of the lucky ones.

The dread was always there in the back of her mind. It simmered through the day, when her thoughts were otherwise occupied, only to flare up the moment she had time to relax. And even though she knew the people best qualified to take on this  mystery were already doing their upmost to solve all of this... she still felt dreadful.

Whatever the future would hold for them. They would face it. And one day perhaps the dreary feeling in her gut would fade – together with these ominous towers.

[raenysart]

they’re girlfriends

[aethernoise]

sure, there will be a cure for tempering

when pigs fly

[gnbrkrs]

I have a bad feeling about this.

I look at patch 5.4 and... The more I look, the more I feel like whatever writers are trying to do with Gaius is meant to take him from point A to some unknown point B to serve the developer’s interest, no matter how condensed and shoddy the road is. Almost like they brought him back to be some plot device.

It makes me extremely sad because I love him. I want him to be treated right by the writing team, not be an afterthought or a throwaway. Goddamn it, I want him to live, and I want him a redemption arc, one that is well done. But instead I have what I have. All while certain other characters are getting all the spotlight for a 2nd patch in a row, with more personal interactions and private conversations with the WoL than any other Scion or supporting character ever had, some completely unnecessary to move the plot forward, while also losing the stuff that made them cool to be the blushing fanboy( come on, the dude literally lead a nation for a century and chewed out Emet and Vauthry, he shouldn’t be that blushy and shy towards everyone, including a friggin merchant, he kept cool with us for an entire expansion and 3 patches).

[svere-online]

I can’t believe they made G’raha Tia experience racism