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witchfall · 4 years

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1. crux

cw: grief, loss

Vivisha does what a diplomat should never do. She gets up from the table, wordless, and walks away. Drops everything right in the middle, like a ceramic plate onto stone. Just completely loses the plot.

She walks away, half expecting a bomb to go off.

She doesn't want to go to her room -- her still dank room with an empty bed and threadbare blankets and cloudy glass windows that let in godforsaken drafts. Heat moves upward; she remembers this law from her time at the arcanist's college. And she is that: a heated thing, a wild thing, a little flame that seeks to destroy.

She climbs the still broken stairs, the ones Natsuki told her not to touch, toward the floor of the house no one has cared yet to visit.

The House didn't do it. The House didn't do it? But who else would be evil enough to kill Enqu?

She must move and move and move, lest the great beast of anger catches her before she has a proper target. She is on the run within her own home -- and really, is that not how she has lived her life for as long as she can remember? Running in place in the hopes that it meant something?

The wood is too damp to creak. Dust has settled into grime. She smells mildew and the lingering, acrid scent of old spells gone wrong settling in the old stone gathered by the Sharlayan scholars who must have lived here once (or perhaps, more correctly, whoever they looked down upon to serve them), but still she climbs, seized by the heady desire to dirty her hands in something dramatic. Maybe kill something no one would miss.

The House of the Desert Iris was evil. It had done evil things. That was at the crux of her mission. Her husband was killed to forward their plans, and she was good and she would defeat them and watch them burn because that is what evil deserved.

It was really just...pirates?

The grief is so large it smothers her. It spreads through her body like dark, sticky vines. Out of her heart. Piloting her body. Springing her so full of tears her skull feels full enough of them to explode. She falls to the dirty ground like an old, raggedy doll, and sobs.

The world doesn't function on the same scale. It expects a smallness of her she can no longer easily summon. She had heard people say it feels like the earth stands still while everyone else keeps going. But this grief, still new, feels more like the world sought to smash her inside a smaller and smaller box until she is atoms and bits. No one wants to digest the bigness of loss. The portions are too rich.

You can, a small voice whispers. You can survive this.

She hiccups. Dust sneaks into her nose and she sneezes hard enough to see stars.

This is indeed suitably dramatic. She is the wild woman in the attic, crying banshee cries, love lorn and foolish as she sobs in the moonbeam cast from the single window. There is dust in her hair, gobs of it. Snot runs down her nose, into her mouth. Dirt is smeared into her new bodice. There are books about women like this. They never talk about how much laundry they need to do. How many baths they must take. She sits up and takes stock of the room, deciding not to think about how she may have to ask Vael or Sechen to come help her down--

She blinks. A morpho sits in front of her, its wings flapping mildly in repose.

She blinks again.

No, it is still there. It glows soft blue in the Dravanian moonlight. She had felt something land on her face earlier today, she thought. Was it...?

"Hello," she says, breath still hiccuping. To her horror, it begins to flap its wings harder -- but it simply moves to rest on her toe, as if it had been waiting for her to invite it there.

You can survive this. You will find your way out. You have people who need you.

The crux of it is this: she hears his voice when she speaks to herself kindly. One day she may not remember the tone correctly. But she will know that it is him, because he is the one who taught her to speak this way to herself.

She looks upon the morpho. She remembers a story that says they are lost spirits.

She will know. She knows, now.

She extends her hand and the morpho settles carefully on her palm, soft as a breathless kiss. She accepts the gift, even in her smallness, as a token of faith. The world is unfair; that is the price that must be paid for beauty, small and fleeting and bright.

#ffxivwrite2020 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv #vivisha visha #kathryn writes #all in the effort to make a morpho minion ic #dont @ me God i wont answer u #messy but that is the point of this exercise i guess

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shamans-of-reeds · 4 years

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Vault of Lies [RP]

(( Rating: PG-13 ))

(( Trigger Warning: Depictions of graphic violence, death, and use of foul language. ))

(( Genre: Adventure, drama, thriller ))

(( Cast: @vaelir-alatori , @the-firetouched , @lavenderlarksong , and Ilakha ))

Vael'ir Alatori: | The plan was pulled off without a hitch, and the small force found themselves in the interior of the Alatori Family vault. The growling of beasts and the barking of orders emanates from within, put a scowl on Vael’ir’s face.

Vael'ir Alatori: | “That’s not right. We got in quiet; why does he have standing guards on the inside?” Vael asks quietly. Softly he pulled his gunblade off of his back and held it close. “Well, if they know we’re here, then leaving isn’t an option. Chances are our faces will be on posters up and down Sapphire Avenue.”

Vael'ir Alatori: | Vael loads his gunblade with a glowing purple cylinder and looks at the others. “I’ll take the lead. Stay close and don’t lose sight of one another.” He says, his eyes darting to the other three and resting on Vivisha for a moment longer. “If Rorotori wants hell, let’s go and raise it.”

Vivisha Visha holds tight to her staff and once again readjusts the mask covering her eyes. Not that it would likely do much good if Rorotori got a good look at her, but it makes her feel strong and mysterious even so. The sound ofbarking, however, clearly unnerves her. "W-well...Enqu hasn't said anything happened outside yet. We're in it now. Unfortunately for him, I'm in the mood to burn something."

Ilakha Moks 's steps slowed as went to the center of the room down the stairs. "Oh, gods. . ." She turned to Vivisha slowly. "Well, I do hope this will not take so long. . ." Her burning wildfire staff is grasped in both of her hands. "No matter how far we go, I will keep you all safe and standing."

Vael'ir Alatori smiles down at her softly. For a moment, the stress and tension of the situation disappears from his face. "Remember everything I told you. Like a bonfire, not a forest fire." He nods to Ilakha in turn. "Just make sure you keep yourself safe too, kiddo. Four go in, four come out, got it?"

Ilakha Moks bobbed her head intently. Briefly, she thought of her family waiting for her. "I will. Do not worry, friend."

Vivisha Visha: "Dear Ilakha will just have to remind me of the many times I fell off reindeer to ground me back in the cold..." A dry attempt at a semi-joke.

Q'lin LarksongBalmung snorts, pulling the circular blades off of her hips. "Well, let us just be quick about it, yes?" she twirls the blades on her wrists.

Vivisha Visha: "Watch for traps!"

Vael'ir Alatori: "Damn... basilisks and automated traps. Really. uncle?"

Vivisha Visha: "This....is a bit...much!" Strained from focus on her spells. "The drama!"

Vael'ir Alatori: "I knew he was planning bloodsands shows, but this is a bit much."

Vael'ir Alatori: "More than I was expecting."

Ilakha Moks: "Ooh. . . I was not expecting giant crushing traps. . . not good."

Vivisha Visha looks warily to the distance. "What triggers those roof traps I wonder..."

Vael'ir Alatori: "We may be under watch. Stay on your toes."

Vael'ir Alatori: "C'mon, ugly! Your mother was born from Bahamut dung!"

Vael'ir Alatori dispenses with the contents of the chamber, releasing hot steam into the air as he prepares another round. "Good work keeping your cool there, kiddo. Everyone alright?"

Vivisha Visha wipes sweat from her brow, under her bangs, and then walks over to the fallen thing and whaps it with her stick. "I am now!"

Ilakha Moks: "See? We is not dead. I am good luck! Heehee!"

Vael'ir Alatori: "I haven't seen any records. There has to be more. Don't play into overconfidence quite yet."

Ilakha Moks: "Oh. . . well, we will find them, I think. But it seems we are having to go a bit deeper for it. . ."

Vivisha Visha breathes heavily but nods at Ila, smiling a little. "Gods, I am clearly out of shape! I'm ready..."

Q'lin LarksongBalmung stretches her arms over her head, sighing. "Onwards we go."

Ilakha Moks: "Baby coeurls? This is cruel!"

Vael'ir Alatori: "I feel conflicted! They're like cousins!"

Vivisha Visha: "AAAAHHH it's coming right at me!!"

Q'lin LarksongBalmung: "Well at least we put them down quickly."

Ilakha Moks: "Not vultures! They are sacred!"

Vivisha Visha: "...this is a truly horrible way to learn about the bloodsands fight, my dear..."

Vael'ir Alatori: "They need to store the beasts somewhere."

Vivisha Visha: "...OH GODS A BEAR"

Ilakha Moks: " A BEAR!?"

Vivisha Visha: "WHERE DID HE GET ALL THESE BEARS FROM?"

Vael'ir Alatori: "They're large and they're loud.

Vael'ir Alatori: Perfect promotional material!"

Q'lin LarksongBalmung: "Perhaps Dravania? They're quite plentiful near Tailfeather..."

Vivisha Visha: "...more expense."

Vivisha Visha: "He clearly has too much money in his pocket."

Ilakha Moks: "Sorry naughty vultures. . . it is stun time."

Vael'ir Alatori sneers as the next arena comes into view. “This is over the top, even for Rorotori. Where are all the documents, all the gil piles and promissory notes?”

Vivisha Visha: "...I don't even know what that is..."

Ilakha Moks: "Ooh, I need to record this beast in my codex. . ."

Vivisha Visha: "But unfortunately for this poor creature, I'm not in the mood to talk!"

Q'lin LarksongBalmung: "Well that's a beast you don't see every day..."

Vael'ir Alatori: "My bet is some voidspawn. We can wring the answers out of Rorotori after this. Keep an eye on those pedestals."

Vael'ir Alatori eyes the pedestals, suspecting an aetheric bent to the fight setup."

Vivisha Visha: "Oh, watch its eyes! I feel something awful."

Vael'ir Alatori: "The orbs! Quickly!"

Vael'ir Alatori: "Those aether explosions. Definitely voidsent. My guess is an experiment from some less than scrupulous thaumaturges." Ilakha Moks 's trembling hands gripped onto her staff tighter. She was visibly on edge.

Vael'ir Alatori dislodges another spent cylinder, which sizzles as it hits the ground. "This serves a double purpose then. I realize the Bloodsands have been reigned in as of late; my uncle may have a hand in attempting to roll those restrictions back."

Vivisha Visha kneels down before the foul thing's body. Her expression is unreadable thanks to the mask, but the air around her spikes warm for a moment. "...but for what?" she asks darkly. "For good gil? We're skilled but...or you all are...but the deaths that could cause. You don't bring voidsent into something already violent and blood-laden!"

Q'lin LarksongBalmung scowls, swinging one of the chakrams around on her wrist, her head tilted to the side. "Reminds me of the ahriman. With the one big eye? So I would not be surprised if it was voidsent."

Vael'ir Alatori scowls and grumbles audibly. "Gone are the days of Raubahn tearing down hunts fit for marks on the sands. This can't continue."

Vivisha Visha: "Has your uncle always been this flush with liquid gold, Vael?" She looks around the room suspiciously. Ilakha Moks | "I hope not. . ." Her voice is small, but recovering.

Q'lin LarksongBalmung: "My partner is ex-bloodsands. I'm certain he's experienced some... fucked up shit there." Vivisha Visha: "I can't imagine that creature came cheap..."

Vael'ir Alatori: "Rorotori's not exactly a miser, but this is new."

Vael'ir Alatori: "I intend to ask him that myself. I'd wager plenty on him being here. This is too well planned of a roadblock to be mere coincidence." Q'lin LarksongBalmung turns to look at Vivisha. "If not purchasing it outright, a hand in developing it. Easier to get your hands on something you make yourself."

Vivisha Visha steps over to Ila to give her a comforting pat on the wrist. "Hopefully that is...the last of the voidsent." Though Lin's words make her visibly frown. "Another reason for us to keep going, I suppose."

Vael'ir Alatori: "Agreed. Is everyone alright to continue? There's no shame in saying no." Ilakha Moks: "You think your uncle is here? He is not a black mage, is he? He did not. . . summon the creature himself, did he?"

Vivisha Visha looks between Ila and Vael curiously at that. Vael'ir Alatori looks at Ilakha and sighs. "He's a thaumaturge of no small skill. I don't take him as the voidsent calling type, regardless of how I feel about the man... but again, this is new."

Ilakha Moks glanced down to Vivisha and offered a small smile in return, trying to regain her cheerful composure. "Well. . . let us keep being careful, I guess. I am ready to go!" Conquering Bardam's Mettle was no small feat for her when she was sixteen, but this was a horse of a different color.

Vael'ir Alatori: "We're going to make it through this, kiddo. Steel yourself and stay behind me, alright?"

Vivisha Visha: "I look forward to challenging him," she says, with perhaps unearned bravado. But thus far she has felt /good/...it felt /right/ to be using her magic like this, like she was delving into something necessary.

Vivisha Visha: "....or not."

Vael'ir Alatori: "Live guards. They had to be somewhere."

Vael'ir Alatori: | The lancer in the center of the dais raises a lance haughtily. "Master Alatori sends his regards!"

Vivisha Visha: "Stand down, you fool! We've come this far!" Not quite the diplomatic approach, but she puts as much of her Duchess voice into it as she can. Still, she readies for a fight.

Ilakha Moks called back, uncharacteristically, "Eat dzo crap!!" Her brows are twisted in fear and hurt.

Vivisha Visha breathes heavily. She'd have to digest that later.

Vael'ir Alatori: "Let... go...! Bugger!"

Vael'ir Alatori: | As the party clears the threshold to the large, open arena, Vael’s eyes shoot up to a ledge overlooking the arena, where an aging lalafellin man in an orange silk robe stands with his arms crossed and his teeth bared in a mocking grin.

Vael'ir Alatori: | “Ah, and the stray makes his appearance at last. I must say that I’m quite disappointed that my next few offerings to the Bloodsands have been ruined, but the money I would have made pales in comparison to the reward the Iris will give me for the return of their darling princess.”

Vael'ir Alatori: | Vael immediately moves over with Glanzender drawn to stand in front of Vivisha and points his blade up at Rorotori. “You won’t be touching her, or anyone else. I’m here for your records, Uncle. Don’t make me go through you to get them. Go quietly, and the only thing you’ll have to worry about is the Sultansworn.”

Vivisha Visha follows Vael's gaze and immediately readies herself to fling a fireball at him -- and that's before he mentions her nearly by name! "....they don't want me for anything but their good name! Sod that!"

Vael'ir Alatori: | “My boy, you are operating off of the assumption that I confront you unprepared. You are sorely mistaken.” Rorotori calls back down. “Much like your mother, you underestimate the monetarists. Not all of us laze about and eat grapes all day. You’ll find I am quite capable of defending myself; as are my associates here.”

Vael'ir Alatori: | The portcullis on the other end of the arena screeches as it opens, letting in a squad of gladiators. Vael’s brow narrows; he recognizes the muscle that had assaulted him in Alatori Manor weeks before.

Vael'ir Alatori: | Again Rorotori speaks as the gladiators bring their weapons to bear. “Last chance, boy. Give me the heiress and you will walk free. We can even speak of forgiving your debt. The debt your mother so carelessly passed on to you.”

Vael'ir Alatori: | As Vael’s anger reaches a boiling point, the air around him tenses. Small sparks of electricity dance across his blade and around his arms. “This was a set-up. You knew I was going to come for your vault. You planned it all well, but you made a fatal mistake, Rorotori Alaltori.”

Vael'ir Alatori: | Vael reaffirms the direction of his gunblade, pointing it instead at the gladiators gathered. “You underestimated Tatamo, and she taught me everything I know. I’m willing to bet that your error outweighs mine; and I’m a gambling man.”

Q'lin LarksongBalmung tightens her grip on the chakrams. Her silver eyes burn beneath the brim of her hat, sizing up the squad of gladiators in the arena.

Vivisha Visha sets her staff aloft, pointing it at Rorotori, and lets flame fill her palm. A threat. A show of power. "I'm not who you think I am, Rorotori Alatori. You'll regret crossing me and hurting my friends." Lady Snapdragon comes to life!

Ilakha Moks 's brows knitted together, sharp teeth clenching. "You. . ." Just then, she inhaled through her nose and exhaled out of her mouth; her breath was steam as her body temperature rose. "It is up to the gods to forgive you. Because I cannot."

Q'lin LarksongBalmung grins, the sound of ringing bells as she takes a step out to the side. "Go on then. Let us show him how wrong he is."

Vael'ir Alatori smirks. "My thoughts exactly." He charges with his gunblade held aloft.

Vael'ir Alatori: "Idiots! Bloody fools! I trained in the Flames! The sands are nothing!"

Vael'ir Alatori: | Rorotori enters the arena with a massive beast in tow; the pride and joy of his collection. “I should have never taken you and your vagrant mother in! Ala Mhigan refuse, the lot of you, but idealists the worst of all! There is only one force in this world that matters; opportunity, and drive it takes to take advantage of it!”

Vael'ir Alatori: | Vael reloads his gunblade and assumes his battle stance, unperturbed. “This is for my mother.”

Vael'ir Alatori: "Let... go!"

Vael'ir Alatori: | Just as the red manticore seems to be reaching its limit, it swings its arm wide in an unexpected desperate lash-out; Ilakha is squarely hit by a grievous blow and is sent flying away, rolling a few times in the dirt before coming to a stop.

Vael'ir Alatori: | Vael turns about and then back to the beast. “Vivisha, take care of her!” He shouts as he charges the manticore. The gambler drags his blade’s tip against the ground and brings it up as an explosion of electricity bursts from the ground, ending the beast’s rampage for good. Rorotori remains dazed on the ground, silently awaiting his nephew’s judgment.

Ilakha Moks screamed just before going sailing, rolling to a stop as her entire left horn goes flying with her, clattering to the ground pathetically. Her staff is snuffed out as it lands.

Vivisha Visha | In the next moment, she sees Ila fly, and without thinking, channels her ongoing aetheric power to literally shift her entire body across the room toward her friend. "ILAKHA!!"

Vael'ir Alatori keeps his blade pointed at Rorotori to keep him from moving, and watches Ilakha and Vivisha for news. Sweat beads down face and stings his eyes, pried open by worry and adrenaline both.

Vivisha Visha: "Ilakha!! Are you....are you okay!?" She tries to look for injury or what have you...

Ilakha Moks is breathing heavily, but she is unconscious. Blood seeped from the back of her head and stained her white overcoat as it pooled on the floor.

Vael'ir Alatori: "Vivi. Focus. She needs us. Think about how you create fire and ice."

Vael'ir Alatori: "Turn it to positivity. Think warmth. Think sunlight, hugs, and refreshing dips in the lake. Give her that."

Vael'ir Alatori uses his free hand to conjure a basic healing spell, but with his offense-oriented focus in hand it is not quite to the power that Ilakha likely needs.

Q'lin LarksongBalmung laughs, catching the flying chakrams as she comes to a stop, breathing heavily. Though her gaze snaps to Ilakha, it goes back to Rorotori and Vael'ir. The chakrams get hooked to her belt, though she stands back, hands wringing. Nothing she could do...

Vivisha Visha: "Oh gods...she needs a healer...." she whispers, despite Vael's pleas, but...yes. And the stars, like Enqu had shown her. She doesn't have the right tools for this, but... "Shouldn't..shouldn't we call Enqu..." But the blood...no, she has to act now. She carefully places her hands on Ila's shoulders and presses in. She closes her eyes and thinks of the tide-fixing nature of a benefic and the warmth of a night by the fire with her love. It wouldn't fix any real damage but... She would do everything she could to ensure Ila would at least survive to see a medic.

Ilakha Moks 's horn had yet to grow back, but the blood that poured from her head at least stopped. She groaned, rolling in her spot, her hair damp and red. "Vivisha!" Abruptly, Enqu's voice came over the linkshell. "The escape route is prepared. Is anybody hurt?"

Vivisha Visha blinks a few times, as if coming out of a trance. Her hands fumble for the linkshell. "Enqu! We're...we're alive. Ilakha got hurt...one of her horns...and she's unconscious..." She looks over to the situation with Rorotori. "We'll...we'll be out soon..." There were some scores to settle here. Icy panic and hot fury battled in her blood, so all she could do at the moment was sit by Ila.

Vael'ir Alatori: | With the adrenaline of battle still fresh in his veins, Vael moves over to his uncle and places a boot on the lalafell’s chest, the tip of Glanzender resting just above its target’s face. “What do you have to say for yourself?” Vael barks angrily as his index finger traces the trigger guard.

Vael'ir Alatori: | Rorotori coughs and spits up at the gunblade. “What injustice that Bahamut’s fire would claim my precious Mimiru and not unruly the scamp my niece took pity on. The gods are truly cruel.”

Vael'ir Alatori: | Vael’s boot presses harder on his uncle’s chest. “Twenty years! Twenty years of wondering where our next meal would come from, of fearing debt collectors at our door coming to take our home from us! My mother deserved better. All of your debtors deserved better.”

Vael'ir Alatori: | His trigger finger now rests within the guard, ready to pull at the slightest provocation. “The refugees had their homes taken from the Garleans, only to fall into the pit of monetarist vipers. Cruelty beyond belief to those who needed help the most. Eorzea will be better off without you.”

Vael'ir Alatori: | Contrary to his words, Vael’s trigger finger remains still as he stares at his uncle’s face; as if he is waiting for the others to speak their piece.

Ilakha Moks | "I'm on my way!" Enqu clicked off the linkshell, Ilakha not seeming to notice it. The horn with her linkpearl was laying on the ground. That aside, she didn't respond to much else other than the pain in her head and the fact she's still alive to be in agony.

Q'lin LarksongBalmung takes a breath, closing her eyes and biting her bottom lip. Those eyes open again and she steps back, to pace as she thinks.

Vivisha Visha holds onto the sound of Enqu's voice as a new fury rises inside of her. She rises -- she would be a danger healing Ila in this small moment -- and yanks off her mask to gaze upon Rorotori with her true face. "How dare you! Is that what all of this is? Trying to fill a void that Vael and his mother didn't even have fault for!? Spend money on dark magicks to make a point? You and the Iris are /everything/ that is wrong with this world. You are the true arbiters of cruelty, not the Gods!"

Vael'ir Alatori | Rorotori coughs up a bit of blood and looks to Vivisha, his wounds not masking his vivisible lack of amusement. "Foolish girl. The Garleans will come again, and they will not be fought with kind words and sentiments. They will be fought with..." Another cough, this one dry, and Vael tightens his foothold.

Vael'ir Alatori: | "They will be fought with money. Cold, heartless gil. The sooner you learn this, the better."

Vivisha Visha: "Oh, how very high and mighty of you," she spits back. "Another of my family's underlings was caught sending money TO the Garleans. Is that what you call fighting? Paying them as much as you can so they'll kill everyone but you?" She clenches her fist, thinking of when Enqu had been under Garlean capture. She hears something like ice snap in her head. And then, before she can stop herself...before her diplomat training and good heart can take over, she says: "Kill him. Make a point."

Q'lin LarksongBalmung: "A me before would tell you to kill him and be done with it." Lin speaks softly, pausing in her pacing. "...But there is plenty at stake here, if you end his life. If you do it, it is because it needs to be done, not because of your feelings. If you kill him because of the emotions at play, there will only be regret." She reaches up for her hat. "Or, we can simply hand him over to the Sultansworn and let them deal with him. There is plenty of evidence against him to keep him in the gaol for many, many years."

Q'lin LarksongBalmung: "You will kill him, or you will not. But you will not let your emotions decide."

Vael'ir Alatori grits his fangs and his gunblade begins to shake. "What justice waits him? He's got the gil to live out in a cushy excuse for a 'cell' for the rest of his days. The sultansworn protect self defense, and I've been defending myself for twenty years. No. I'm not giving him; not giving you the option." Silence follows for but a moment, soon replaced by Vael yelling at the top of his lungs and he pulls the trigger and swings his blade down. In but a moment, only one Alatori remains.

Vael'ir Alatori lets the final spent cylinder drop to the ground, steam rising as the aether disperses from it. "We need to get Ilakha out of here. I'm going to stay and take care of what I came here to do. There are records to be looked over, evidence to be acquired..." He pauses and returns Glanzender to his back. "...and I've got a company to run."

#ffxiv rp #ffxiv story #ilakha moks #ilakha tsaatan #vael'ir alatori #vivisha visha #q'lin larksong

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