#werlyt spoilers

[lavampira]

the absurd power rangers vibes crossed with this Angery Catte in the cutscene for the sapphire weapon duty knocked me right out tbh

[aethris-art]

Children yelling: MCDONALDS MCDONALDS MCDONALDS

[ihaveatypeanditstrickstergods]

When you think about it, Praetorium and Porta Decumana are really just the world's most awkward barbecue hosted by two sad dads. Lahabrea brought his ex and didn't tell anyone, there was drama, everything kinda blew up, and now everything is burnt and Gaius is just spouting his political opinions everywhere.

[myrfing]

oh my god i had erased from my mind that it was the werlyt guy. that explains the characters going like I Realize I Needed To Improve My Character Development And Thus I Am Having My Character Development Right Now (stated) and the weirdness of some concepts. and how even though fem characters take center stage there’s still some completely glossed over bizarre implications (the mamook baby mill being the most egregious) and an inability to imagine women outside of a mother/daughter role. but most of these problems are also endemic to the entire game so i was just like well ff14 strikes again

[heirbane]

FIMBULVETR: TERNCLIFF'S TERMINUS.

aka: give us a wrap up for werlyt, squex.

Terncliff had been on the cusp of desperation several times before Endwalker. First, when they believed Gaius van Baelsar came to colonize and eradicate the culture and heritage that the cliffside port had cultivated; second, when his towering form disappeared from the area all together, leaving tints of Garlean occupation without the promise of industry and technology. The magitek units had come, providing the men and women with goods and services beyond any they would have been able to harness on their remote stretch of Ilsabard, and then simply disappeared, leaving infrastructure half-built and their people without the skills to finish it on their own.

When Valens van Varro began to encroach upon Werlytan territory, they had well and truly believed it to be the final chapter for their people. Valens pushed forth magitek reapers, shattering windows and crumbling brickwork with ease. He had been the Imperial officer they truly had expected when Gaius came to their shores over a dozen summers prior.

Valens was the shadow they had feared, and the depths of his depravity saw no end, as violent and unpredictable as the waves against its jagged, rocky cliff side. He had come simply to beckon the wolf out of hiding, the greying hound's children puppeteered by their loyalty.

The strings that bound them to the Empire would gather around their throats, a noose made of good intentions and false hope, and one by one the Imperial Legatus strung them up and let them rot.

Gaius had nothing to bury but broken machinery and the echoes of children at war. When the Warrior of Light finally helped him seek solace for all that Valens had done, he felt as if there was just as little left of himself, too.

It came as a surprise, then, when the sky began to fall, that neither Gaius nor his remaining child turned into their own fear and uncertainty. As the remaining villagers began to transform, skin and bone into decay and death, he and his daughter remained.

What was the end of the world to those who had lost all but each other?

The blasphemy that haunts the forestry around Terncliff screams one night, a sound half torturous and half inhumane, a vicious, guttural laughter that those who encountered Valens van Varro could never forget.

It is dubbed Fimbulvetr. It is a beast not to be ignored, a beast borne of a boy who had his orphanage ravaged by Valens' mechanical soldiers. He had lived through certain death once, and when the sky began to turn red, his peers collapsing into frothing, soot-bleeding things, he believed the worst days of his life were returning. He had fled into the woods, running for his life, until - under the full red moon - he came across the skeletal remains of the Diamond Weapon.

Fimbulvetr towers past the trees. They are part machine and part person, as if it had simply began gathering up the scrapheap remains of a Garlean occupation. When not cowering among the foliage by daylight, they are calling out for whoever can hear them, mimicked laughter and scared sobbing on an endless loop.

With little and less experience in combat and the inability to put down a child the settlement had once known and cared for, panic and unrest becomes palpable. Even if those in Terncliff got aid from others in Werlyt, they were farmers and fishmongers - few had ever involved themselves in conflict by choice.

And so it fell to the man who had seen his own children laid to rest. The man that had slaughtered nine throne usurpers. The man who had extended an olive branch on the Empire's behalf over a decade before and now resided, desolate and alone, at the outskirts of town, still trying to pull the gristly remains of his existence from the broken corpse the Empire had left behind.

He had led before. He would do it again - just once more.

In the ensuing conflict between Fimbulvetr and their cobbled together militia, Gaius cuts down yet another malady of nature. Their wounds weep blood-tinged ceruleum: flesh carves away to steel innards. They laugh. They laugh. They laugh, sick and familiar.

Until they don't, and it is just a boy begging as he had less than a handful of summers before: Don't hurt me. Don't hurt me. Please.

When Gaius awakes, the sky is blue and the moon is silver and full, shadowed by the sun. In the moment he had hesitated, a father looking at a son begging to be put out of his misery, the beast had lunged.

He is told the Warrior of Light appeared. He is told the machina melted into boy and then into soot and ash, that - finally, finally - nothing remained of the Weapons in the cliff side.

When he awakens, it is the middle of the night. Allie is asleep at his side. Severa and Valdeaulin are snoring in chairs brought from his sitting room. There are flowers on his kitchen table and meals in his Garlean icebox.

He is glad to be alive.

Once he recovers and is able to walk again, he adds the boys name to their memorial, etched below the name of his own children.

[calico-heart]

I FINALLY finished the Sorrow of Werlyt questline tonight (have been sitting on that Diamond Weapon trial for MONTHS shh) and had been toying with the idea of Lyrha and the Red Mage fam being involved in this. 100% settled on that being canon now.

She struggles a lot in her story with how to reconcile her past as both a victim and a perpetrator of immense abuse, much of which she has no way to make right. It's a huge obstacle - feeling both unworthy of the Red and corned by her previous ignorance.

These kids being taken up into a violent regime they grew to embrace would hit very close to home for her, a stolen child who was raised as a protege by the very fiend who attacked her home and kidnapped her. She didn't question Baagvai's teachings even when he betrayed her, just doubled down on her own jaded cruelty.

And like Gaius, she was forcibly torn from her misguided life and aspirations. She made allies who's mere actions and morals discredited all the justifications she had, all her beliefs about the world and Might Makes Right. She realized none of that suffering she'd experienced or inflicted had been necessary. There were other ways, and better ones.

Valdeaulin's angst over whether to kill Gaius in righteous vengeance would tap into a very familiar fear of Lyrha's too - of X'rhun's wrath, if he discovered the truth of who she really used to be before he found her bleeding out in the dirt by the side of the road

While other characters in her story deal with feelings of inadequacy and guilt, Arya and X'rhun certainly aren't carrying the same kinds of sins. And that's been isolating and frightening for Lyrha.

But Gaius is notorious. And he's now grappling with a familiar struggle. Here's someone who might understand, who's choices and fate she can use as a model for what her own might be, caught as she is between the horror of who she was and the hope for who she could yet be.

I mean look at this jhhjkhklj

A lot of stuff Lyrha needs to hear, in there. I might even see if I can tie in the moment she tells X'rhun the truth about her past into this arc LOL

[mosthuggableffxiv]

Round 1B: Valens van Varro vs Ilberd Feare

"Torturing children, creating weapons that kill the user on purpose, racism, jealousy, huge ego, power plays, bad armor design, plus he has stupid hair and a weird milk fetish."

"Asshole."

[sniperct]

To the people on the dev team who clearly have a love of Pacific Rim and Gundam, bless you.

[singing-swan]

That train scene was so cool, I really wish it had been playable 😭

[beastsofstrength]

Just a little bit of fun with Brooklyn 99 and FFXIV!

[pangolinheart]

FFXIVWrite 2023 DAY 5 - BARBAROUS

Uhhhh I really don't know what happened with this one gang it kind of got out control. I couldn't help but think about the Werlyt questline, which are probably the bosses that Rhiki has found the most viscerally upsetting of any that she's faced. I thought it would probably remind her of all of the people she knows from Garlean-occupied territories. So because angst is squarely within my comfort zone, I decided to make it vaguely shippy to stretch my brain a little, with a pairing that I at one point bandied about but never really totally sold myself on. Anyway, in the spirit of the event and because I'm queueing this at 2:00 am, this has only been loosely edited. Apologies in advance for any typos!

Rating: Teen Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort Characters: Z'rhiki Irhi (Warrior of Light), Sidurgu Orl Pairings: Sidurgu Orl/Warrior of Light Word Count: 2,750 Content Warnings: Mentions of (non-explicit) body horror, mentions of character death, mentions of alcohol use, general angst

“Alright, what’s going on?” Sidurgu asked, closing the door to his room behind them. 

Z’rhiki spared him a glance and a brief quirk of her lips as she moved past him deeper into the room. She slumped onto the edge of his unmade bed. “That obvious, huh?” 

“Yes.” It really was. She couldn’t have believed she was hiding it well. It looked like she hadn’t slept in days – dark circles ringing her eyes and her skin an unusual pallor. Her hair was always tousled and choppy, but tonight it looked actually unkempt, perhaps from being blown about in the cold Coerthan wind. She hadn’t reached up to fix it, though. In fact, he noticed, she was hardly moving at all. It was strange to see her awake but almost entirely still; she was usually so animated that he had stopped noticing her constant flurry of movement until it was suddenly absent.  

“For a start,” he continued when she didn’t respond, “It’s the middle of the night.” 

She smiled weakly down at her hands. “Sorry,” She muttered quietly. “I figured you would still be up.” 

He shook his head. “It’s fine.” She had been right – he kept odd hours, though less-so now the he had Rielle to look after. Having been kept underground for so long, with no way of knowing whether it was day or night, had taken its toll on her internal clock, too, but over time her schedule had begun to even out, which he thought was probably a good thing. Still, it was out of the ordinary for her to appear so late, after Rielle had already gone to bed. She hadn’t seemed in the mood for a drink or small talk, either. 

“You look terrible,” He pointed out. 

“Thanks.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm. 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” Had the mood been different, he might have been willing to indulge her with some of their usual back-and-forth, but tonight seemed… different. 

The room fell silent, save for the whistling of wind through the poorly sealed window panes. 

“So…?” He started when she didn’t offer any further explanation, trailing off in the vain hope that she would continue his sentence. It was unnerving to see her this quiet, too. He’d seen her like this before, but only once or twice. It must have been bad.  

He leaned back against the table across from his bed, absently brushing some of the bottles out of his way, and looked at her expectantly. 

She shook her head back at him, though she was still examining the cracked plaster at the base of the opposite wall. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing. I’m fine.” That clearly wasn’t true. “I don’t really want to talk about it.” 

Sidurgu sighed. “Alright,” – he certainly wasn’t in a position to demand she open up about her feelings  – “Then... what do you want me to do?” Did she want to drink? Have sex? What? ‘Why is she here…?’ 

Another headshake. “Nothing, nothing…” Finally, she raised her eyes to look at him. “It’s just… good to see you, is all.” 

He blinked. He hadn’t been expecting to hear that.  

“That bad, was it?” He huffed. 

“Don’t say that,” she responded in a low voice, looking away again. 

It was true, but he didn’t intend to press the issue tonight, if he ever intended to press it at all. The pattern hadn’t been lost on him, though. This was where she always came when things had been bad. And the worse they had been, the more likely she was to turn up at the Forgotten Knight. Usually, she was able to keep it together while Rielle was around, appearing her normal chatty, sunshine-y self. After Rielle went to bed, however… 

He wasn’t sure if her late arrival tonight had been intentional or just happenstance. 

He pushed himself off the table and came to settle next to her with a sigh. To his surprise, she almost instantly leaned into him, resting her cheek against his bicep and making him glad that he had let Rielle talk him into wearing “normal” clothes once in a while. Rhiki was always the touch-y type, but she didn’t usually get so… cuddly unless she’d been drinking. 

He didn’t move, just let her press against him. He waited. Either she would say something, or they would just sit in silence like this all night. He could live with that – it wouldn’t be the first long, snowy night he’d spent awake, after all.  

They sat quietly for a time, listening to the wind and the creaking of the old wooden sign above the tavern door outside. The sparse candles that lit the room flickered. 

Eventually, she did speak again, quietly but clearly. 

“I just came from Werlyt.” 

“Werlyt?” He’d heard of the place, but had only vague knowledge of it. He knew it was the territory that lay between Garlemald and Ala Mhigo, and that it had been occupied by the Empire, but little beyond that. 

He felt her nod against him. For a handful of seconds, he thought she’d lapsed into silence again, but it seemed she had just been gathering her thoughts. 

“Do you ever think about… what it would be like if you’d never come to Ishgard?” 

He snorted. Even he could hear the bitterness in his voice when he said, “I haven’t bothered thinking about that in years.” There was no point in dwelling on what might have been. Not when he had his hands full contending with what was. 

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” was all she said in response. 

He considered leaving it at that, but his curiosity got the better of him. “What makes you ask that?” 

This time he felt another headshake. “Nothing, I just…” Her voice cracked. “It was really bad, Sid.”  

He’d been able to figure that much out on his own. 

She was trembling now, ever so slightly, though her breathing was unnaturally even – trying to keep herself calm, he supposed. Awkwardly, he shifted their position so that the arm that she had been leaning against was instead wrapped around her. 

“Tell me,” he said softly. It was the least he could do for her. Hells, it was the only thing he could do for her.  

Another wordless moment stretched between them, and he began to think she wasn’t going to. Sometimes, especially lately, she didn’t want to. He remembered the words she had said the first night he’d seen her after her return from the First. 

“I have to live the rest of my life with all of these horrible pictures in my head. I don’t want you to have to live with them too.”  

He had enough of his own already. 

Then again, it wasn’t like he could get much more damaged, so to hells with it. What was the saying? ‘Pain shared is pain halved’ or some such bullocks? That certainly wasn’t true, but at least pain shared was… well, shared. 

Rhiki seemed content with the new arrangement of their bodies and rested her head against his chest so he could see only half of her face when he looked down. 

“There were these siblings,” she said after a while. 

“They were from Werlyt – orphans, I think. Only two of them were actually related. Their parents were probably killed in the Garlean invasion. But they were taken in by Gaius van Baelsar, of all people, and I guess they enlisted in the Imperial Army before he defected…. 

“Anyway, they got involved in this project the Garlean military was working on to create warmachina like the Ultima Weapon. That’s why I was called there – to help stop a Garlean war machine headed towards Eorzea. We met them, for a few minutes, right before the first machine appeared, and they traded some heated words with Gaius. The youngest one couldn’t have been older than 16….”  

She had managed to keep her composure so far, and even lifted her head from him a little as she spoke. Clearly, though, she hadn’t begun to broach the part that had shaken her. 

“After that, the Ruby Weapon – that was what they called it – showed up. We couldn’t just let it march all the way through to Ala Mhigo, of course, so we tried to stop it. Everything was going pretty well, but then it all got… got weird. Suddenly there was this yelling, screaming, from inside of the machine and then the top of it started to crack. Then there was this horrible, wet sound and something exploded out of it. It-It looked like Nael Van Darnus, or at least some twisted version of him- her? But it had wings. It was all white and slick and dripping this awful-smelling fluid everywhere… just thinking about it makes me want to vomit.” 

She shuddered, then sucked in a deep breath. 

“And if fought like Nael too – don’t ask me how I know. But we managed to take it down, somehow. And that’s… that’s when we learned the worst part. They were trying to get to the pilot, maybe salvage some parts and figure out what the Garleans were up to with it if they could, but,” She was shaking again, her voice becoming hoarse and pitchy, and she buried her face back into his shirt. “There was nothing we could do! The pilot, one of the siblings, she… she was fused into the machine. Cid – Cid Garland, I mean – said it must have been an agonizing way to die. I heard the screaming but I- I didn’t know what was happening!” 

By that point he could see tears starting to slide down her cheeks. His grip around her tightened in a way he hoped was comforting. He never knew what to do or what to say when she cried. So he usually didn’t do or say anything at all, which, somehow, seemed to be just the thing she wanted. 

“And it wasn’t an accident! I was designed to do that! All so that- so that they could hijack the poor pilot’s brain and upload combat data of famous Garlean soldiers! It was awful! And Gaius – Gaius has done horrible things to thousands of people but- but no one deserves to have something like that happen to someone they care about, not even him!” 

Sid grimaced. He didn’t know if it was the words themselves or the way they made his friend tremble and sob against him, but they hung like a heavy weight on his stomach.  

“And it kept happening!” She continued, unable to stop the words once they had started flowing. “And I couldn’t do anything to stop it! I knew what was happening but I- I couldn’t just let them kill people! They all died horrific, excruciating deaths! And for what?” One of her hands had found purchase on his shirt and twisted in it. 

“As if that wasn’t awful enough, the- the few times I actually saw them I got visions, through the Echo, of things that happened back within their legion and… the Garleans, the legatus, they treated them like they were garbage! Like they weren’t even people! I guess to them they weren’t! And I- It was just- I guess I had always known what the world was like but I… how can people be so cruel to each other? The sineaters on the First were terrible in their own way, but they were just monsters! They didn’t have any thoughts, or feelings – they just existed to consume and corrupt. But these were people! And it’s so much worse knowing that regular people can be that monstrous! How can anyone get any joy out of something so- so horrible? The Garleans call us savages, but that… that was just barbaric. And I can’t help but think of everyone I know, all of my friends, who are from places that Garlemald invaded – you, Naago, Yugiri, Raubahn, Lyse… and how if just a few things had been different one of you could have ended up in the same place, and how I can’t stand to think of anyone treating you the way those poor people – kids! – were treated!“ 

She broke off for a short while, muffling her sobs into his chest while he looked down at her helplessly. After a few slow, trembling breaths, she composed herself enough to go on, quieter this time. 

“I can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t stop dreaming about it. Sometimes it’s just like living through it all over again, but sometimes when we open the machine it’s not one of them…. Sometimes it’s Yugiri. Sometimes it’s Naago. But a lot of times it’s also you, too, and I-“ She broke off, pulling away just enough to wipe furiously at her eyes with the back of her hand. “And I know that’s stupid! And that there’s no reason to think about it! But I can’t- I just-“ 

A few more deep breaths. Sidurgu wasn’t sure what to think about… any of it, really. It did seem like a strange mental leap to make, and he was a little surprised she found it so distressing, especially on his account. Regardless, it was clear how much it had upset her, and he couldn’t fault her for that. 

“And I- I don’t mean to say that what happened to you and your family here was any better – it wasn’t! And it would be terrible of me to act like it was but…” She wrapped both of her arms around his waist having to pull herself almost into his lap to do so. Her head came to rest against his chest again. “I’m just glad that you’re here, where I can come see you and talk to you and give you a hug, rather trapped in one of those-those machines.” 

He exhaled, eventually wrapping both of his arms around her as well. The gesture seemed to calm her a bit, and they sat like that for a few minutes, feeling the warmth of one another and the rise and fall of each other’s chests. 

Eventually, Rhiki started to peel herself back from him. “I’m sorry,” she sniffled, rubbing at her red eyes again, this time with the heel of her hand. “I’m sorry. That was a lot. I didn’t mean to just dump all of that on y-“ 

“It’s fine.” He cut her off. He had never been very good at sounding soothing, but he did his best. “I’m here. I’m fine.”  

That wasn’t true, of course. Neither of them were fine, or they wouldn’t be where they were. But he was sure she understood his meaning. He wasn’t fine, but he was at least at a typical level of un-fine.   

“I know.” She offered him a trepidatious smile, her face still damp from tears. “I just needed to remind myself.” 

She pulled him into another, fiercer hug, and he huffed in a familiar display of feigned annoyance. He took a moment to enjoy the embrace nonetheless, and reached one hand up to scratch lightly at the base of her scalp. 

“It’s late. Do you want to stay the night?” He knew how she would answer even before he felt the nod. 

“Are you going to let go of me?” 

“No,” she mumbled into his shirt. 

He sighed, and hoped she didn’t see how dangerously close he came to smiling. Oh well. He supposed there were worse places to be. 

[lavampira]

still thinking about this wolqotd but even though the enemy who terrified alia the most was zenos, her most loathed was gaius without a doubt, and it’s a little funny to me that zenos still couldn’t get the full brunt of her ire like he’d so desperately wanted in the end. but also like. even in garlemald, even with zenos doing that to her, she’s still facing the garleans who view her as a monster and throwing the praetorium in her face when she only wants to help, and having a crisis of whether she’s somehow mirroring the source of her own childhood trauma in their eyes, still coming back to the man who invaded her homeland and ruined so many lives with his faulty ideology. and that’s a continuance of why she can’t forgive him.

[seris-the-ishgard-simp]

Im doing the 6.4 Tartaru Quest and im very certain this happend

[fourteentheart]

A very small preview image of an indulgent charm I made for myself! These will be 3" glow acrylic with a star shaped keyring.

I wanted something focusing on the Werlyt kids and this was instantly beamed into my mind with their updated text. Ricon says they should all go to the beach after playing hide and seek and watch the stars til they fall asleep T_T

Some rambling about design choices below.

The front design stayed close to my original draft but the back changed quite a bit!

Originally I wanted a silhouette of the kids at the bottom looking up at the stars, but once I started looking at how the design would scale I figured I could upscale the front lineart and have the glow acrylic shine thru so the kids faces could be seen at a larger scale. :)

I considered making Allie in color on the starry side to reference the unfortunate passing of her siblings but then I thought... maybe I don't have to constantly remind myself of that. Maybe this is just a cute charm where they DO all live and are enjoying the night sky together!

(Another idea I had was giving the kids wings that would show up when the charm glowed lmao)

The text was originally planned to be in the middle of the starry sky before it ended up on the bottom with a border because I didn't like how it obstructed the kids' lineart if I went with the original layout.

My perception of the kids is heavily influenced now by my own headcanons and AUs but I tried to inject some personality into each of their sleepy poses.

Crafted with love and care because I made this for me, hehe. I want to see how the gradient fares for the starry sky side before seeing if anyone else is interested in a charm. If there is some interest I'll probably do a small run at cost + admin fee for packaging and dropping off packages. I'm not in the business of selling, so I don't like to keep inventory on hand lol

Overall I'm very excited with this design and glad I am fortunate enough to have the means to see it to fruition!

Fun fact: When designing this I said to myself "This is JUST for the Werlyt kids. No Gaius. No Makoh'to. Just them."

[villainousintent]

Seeing folks arguing about Sorrows of Werlyt on multiple platforms refuse to engage with it critically outside of what does/doesn't make sense in-universe. Like the FFXIV writing team has a habit of writing these righteous fascist characters. Despite being villainous and antagonistic they share traits with the heroes; i.e. they are loyal, dedicated and even virtuous. Gaius is like this from ARR, we're told by one of his commanding officers he doesn't discriminate unlike the other Garleans and uplifts any worthy fighter in his ranks. That dumb ass moment with Regula van Hydrus when he dies and the Scions along with the WoL mourn him. There's many more moments that go beyond just humanizing the Garleans.

This game spends so much time trying to make you sympathize with the Garlean conquerors while placing them alongside their atrocities and xenophobic language. They talk about racial/national purity and denounce everyone else as "savages." Like someone wrote all of this shit. Endwalker, especially irks me.

What baffles me is folks talking about how Werlyt deconstructs Garlean ideology like what is there to deconstruct, it's Nazi shit. You need to spell out why it's bad?? Lmao. Had to put a cartoon villain next to an even more cartoon villain and leverage children to purify his character through the narrative. He is redeemed as far as the narrative (and the fans) is concerned, it just took murdering a half-dozen children to do it.

And like that's all well and good or whatever, but this stuff doesn't arrive fully formed from the aether as it were. It's written by people. It's seen by many eyes. It's shaped by the culture of its writers. Japan is a former imperialist nation surrounded by country's it's terrorized. Those scars run deep. So maybe don't like snap at folks from say South Korea who show displeasure at the news cuz they don't "get" Sorrows of Werlyt.

[heirbane]

TATTOOS.

from smallest to largest:

Once, a cluster of vague, abstract shapes on the inside of his upper left arm. They were silhouettes of his children's horns, one shape for each orphan he kept at his side. They were entirely lost after Praetorium. Nothing remains of the marks on his left side.

ⅩⅣ under his left pectoral, gained after he was promoted to Legatus at around 34 or 35. It is just large enough to be covered by his palm. As his oldest tattoo, the letters are blurry with age, and become nigh indistinguishable as any language after being badly burned in the Praetorium.

Six bullets down the right side of his torso, starting at his ribcage and continuing down his waist. They are most often hidden by his arm, even when shirtless. Not all of them are alike, representing the different make and size of ammunition each gun needed, and are unevenly spaced, leaving room for the kills he made with a blade. Those are not illustrated: they need not be, as he still carries the three blades to this day. Those closer to his armpit are older and have become fuzzy with age, but the ones nearing his waist and hip are still crisp and relatively new.

A thorned black rose. The thicket of thorns and vines cover a great deal of his shoulders, with the flower itself placed roughly where his heart would be, slightly off-center and to the left. This tattoo was not mechanically curated: it was stick-n-poke, Valdeaulin's artistry, created by hand over many, many hours. Despite this, it was not his first attempt at tattooing another. His tribe of Duskwights used body art as a way of creating a vow, usually for marriage or life-long promises, and he did just the same with his captive after rescuing him from Praetorium's collapse. The mess of thorns and the solitary flower are a nod to the noose Valdeaulin has 'round Gaius's existence, should he misstep yet again.

A collection of four chrysanthemum flowers, leaves and all, climb up the back of his right ankle, flourishing on his lower calf. It is his newest tattoo and the only one in color, each flower a different shade. It sits atop an old scar received from shrapnel that tore into his achilles tendon, and would be the explanation he would give if a stranger inquired. However, they are a living memorial: a flower for each of the children he could not bury, a flower for each grave he could not visit. (Chrysanthemums represent many things among different cultures, and were often intended to provide protection to those who passed in Garlemald, an attempt to keep the dead's spirit from becoming a Reaper's avatar.)