He/his. Old enough that I should know better, but don't. Yet another personal/art/doodle/OC babbling blog. Inspiration FFXIV blog Common Tags #4-koma #ragnarok online #gate to ragnarok #madoka #original #persona
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO BESTEST BFF TRIS who is funny, thoughtful, a great writer, and my bestest friend for over a decade. Hope you have a wonderful day today! Please wish her the bestest of birthdays @asphaltvalkyrie~
This isn't much but it's a doodle of her WoL, Falerin Arcita. You can stories about him at @the-wardens-torch and Ao3.
I said that I started leveling SAM because I wanted the Amaro mount, but that was only a half-truth, as the primary reason was for Fal to do this cosplay of my favorite consumptive iaijutsu master:
Ukyo Tachibana from SNK's Samurai Shodown series of fighting games!
When I was a kid, my older brother and I had a bootleg Japanese copy of SamSho IV that we played until our thumbs bled, and Ukyo was always a favorite of mine. His simple color palette, the elegant conservation of movement in his stances and attacks, the fact that he rarely even faced the camera, and yes, you got me... his bishonen looks and aura of tragic romanticism.
I'd been thinking about doing this it since SAM became a thing, but what really lit the fire for me to actually do it was this prophetic fanart that my bff and fellow 90s fighting game enthusiast @adeat did for me awhile ago - the original hangs near my monitor and I absolutely love it!
I’m doing a li’l bit of FFXIVWrite on Joey’s Tumblr @without-school-or-style. Feel free to visit if you want.
Also, I’m both parts excited and nervous to announce a silly little project I’ve been chipping away over the past year or so. I debated whether or not to do it, but with the remake coming just around the corner, I’ve decided to do it.
It’s a Ranma 1/2 and Final Fantasy XIV crossover image series!
That is, the Ranma cast in all current FFXIV classes up to Viper and Pictomancer. I did my best to pair up the characters with classes that fit them. Anyone who wants to block, I’ll be using the tag #RanmaxFFXIV.
The pictures will be in black and white. I’ll do my best!
These prompts were done by my beloved girlfriend of 25 years (and counting!). I had the privilege of RPing some of these prompts together with her. Any post that has Joey and/or Syo in it are ones we did together. And also letting me in on some of these screenshots. Her writing is so good and I hope anyone seeing this post enjoys her writing, too.
I’m so proud of you for sticking with FFXIV Write to the end!
And, of course, a big thank you to @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast for hosting this wonderful event year after year.
What instrumental track would play in the background of your character's story during their most meaningful moments?
Tagged by @theimperialnuisance. Thank you so much!
Way back in the day, when writing Justice, I was looking for a song to play during his more pensive moments. I landed upon this song and it stuck since. Most of the time I have some kind of long-winded answer or deeper meaning, and then other times it's nothing more than "I picked a song randomly and it fit serendipitously." orz
Justice takes place in 2008 and @abeat and I were writing this story before then. Been so long ago...
If anyone reading this wants to do this meme, go ahead!
Reonora stared at the seven cards in front of her. Laid out in a straight line, the more she stared at the images, the more their message became clear. The client sitting across from her had asked for a long answer in regards to a ‘problem,’ but wouldn’t provide any hints or clues of said problem beyond that single-word description. Reonora had to trust the heart of the cards if she was to get to the bottom of this dilemma. If she could.
The Man. The Ship. The House. The Child. The Clouds. The Bouquet. The Birds.
This system was that her mother used. This system where she divined messages from Nymeia herself, and brought about clients from all over the world. ‘Please, mother. Wherever you are in the world, please be with me.’
Reonora took a deep breath.
“Has something new happened in your life?” the miqo’te asked.
“Yes,” said the client.
Reonora awaited further elaboration but no further words left the client’s mouth. Only a dark, downcast gaze gave Reonora any indication of an initial impression. And this didn’t seem to be a good one. “And is a man involved? Particularly a man with a glib tongue?”
“Yes.”
“Did you buy a house together?”
“Yes.”
As was once said many times by those around her, the cards were trusted friends that provided hints. Only through one’s intuition could the reader divine the message. However, even though the cards painted a clear picture, Reonora had no read on her client aside from a darkening gaze.
‘Perhaps the client was the one who bought the house herself? Otherwise why would she feel such unease concerning her future?’ Reonora wondered.
A moment of silence passed between the two. At least this time, the woman looked up at Reonora expectantly. The miqo’te took this glance as a sign to proceed with the actual reading. At least the short answers gave her a little better context. Gently waving a hand across the spread, Reonora spoke.
"A man returns home from his journey. With this, a promise of a new life and home. Yet, despite him spreading the word of his happiness, you face uncertainty of your future. Will this be the start of a new life together? You seem uncertain if you will be happy or if there will be future problems at home.”
Uncomfortable silence. The woman’s gaze fell once more, her expression darkening faster than a sudden squall. No good?
Finally, the client spoke. “That’s it?”
No good indeed. Reonora suddenly felt uncomfortable in her constellation attire.
“That’s what the cards say. Are you worried about something?” Reonora asked, hoping the question would bridge the client to at least speak of the situation. After all, what was a divinator but a counselor with cards?
However, the woman seemed to be more of the skeptical variety, as she pursed her lips. “This seems awfully vague. I don’t understand what it’s trying to say–it’s unclear. What problems are they talking about?”
“Perhaps how this man seems so eager to boast to others about his happiness. Is there anything else he would be talking about?” Reonora asked.
“I don’t think that’s what it means. Tell me, what does this card mean?” The client pressed her finger firmly on top of The Ship. “And this? And this?” Another firm pressed onto The House.
Reonora winced as she felt the woman’s energies seep onto her stolen keepsake. “Please don’t touch the cards–”
“And this one?” Nothing but the firmest finger press onto The Clouds. This touch even lingered for a good length of time, as though the client knew better than to heed Reonora’s meek request.
‘Ah. She’s one of those clients—the kind of whom would rather interpret the reading herself.” Swallowing her small tinge of her annoyance, she spoke as flatly and neutrally as possible. “The Clouds means confusion or doubt.”
“Are they telling me to go home and get my shit together?!” the client snapped.
“I already said what I believe the message is to be.”
The client shot to her feet. “I can’t get anything from this. I knew this would be a waste of time.”
Reonora said nothing in response. She sat, staring off into the thousand yards in front of her, her eyes narrowed, as the client stormed up the stairs and out of Fortunes & Fancies. The walls shook as the door slammed behind her.
Sigh.
Making wiping gestures to hopefully rid the cards of the woman’s energies, Reonora placed her deck back in the box. ‘If mother were here, her message would have been as clear as day. Perhaps I am just a fraud? Am I not meant to follow in her footsteps? Perhaps this should only be done by someone with Nymeia’s gift. Not like someone like me… someone like me…’
Reonora leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She envisioned herself as a young girl back in her old home in the Forgotten Springs. How recruiters from the Temple of Nymeia asked Reonora to predict the weather on four dates of the upcoming year like she was supposed to know. How they and her mother smiled expectantly, hopefully. After all, the daughter of Nymeia’s greatest. Surely this girl possessed the gift as well! But when all results came out wrong, Reonora remembered the bowed heads, the disappointed frowns, the recruiters never returning, and her mother growing distant that day.
Perhaps they were right. Perhaps Reonora knew she was chasing nothing more than a flight of fancy she didn’t deserve.
Returning the box into a drawer, she quickly changed out of her black dress and into her usual business attire. “Rosemary, if you don’t mind, can you please cancel any further appointments for the day?”
“Eh? Is something the matter, mistress?” Rosemary, the blonde lalafell behind the desk, asked.
“I can take up the clients if you want.” Joey, the blond viera-no-longer-a-lalafell, added quickly.
“Then… thank you,” said Reonora. “I apologise—I know this is unprofessional of me, but I need to take a walk.”
Taking a page from her client and not giving another word, Reonora quietly left Fortunes & Fancies.
-
Two weeks later, Reonora reappeared at the aetheryte plaza in Limsa Lominsa. The moment she reappeared, she heard a familiar voice in the crowd—a voice she had only heard once, yet had become unmistakably etched in her memory.
That of her unresponsive client.
“–and then can you believe the nerve of him? I found him flirting! With someone else! I knew that marriage was too good to be true! So I kicked him out–he’s no longer a tenant, and swiftly got a divorce! Good riddance! But you know, that’s just my luck. It’s not like I could’ve seen that coming. I’m so glad you’re here in my life to look out for me–”
Reonora stared into space, dumbfounded, but once she caught sight of the client, she quickly veered in the other direction. She found herself biting her lip. ‘Truly if mother or someone else were here, they would have gotten the message across better than me…’
She thought of her deck, which remained untouched since that client’s fated reading, and went about her business.
Deep within the Sil’dihn Subterrane, Teremy and Joey, Warrior and Red Mage, followed Nanamo to a curious room. From first glance, this room appeared like nothing out of the ordinary, save for a gate in the northwest region. A pile of rubble laid to the group’s left, blocking immediate view as to what laid on the other side. As soon as the trio entered, Nanamo walked forward.
“Who would have abandoned their cleaning gear in here? And why do I feel I've seen these particular brushes before?” the sultana mused.
However, Joey’s attention laid somewhere else in the room. As the lalafell walked towards the gate, Joey moved to the western part of the room. Teremy followed his viera companion, knowing that Joey wouldn’t run off randomly without a particular reason. Sure enough, Teremy found Joey standing in front of a closed wooden door. Or, rather, a door with a plank removed to open it, but a push, then a pull from Joey showed that the door remained closed.
“I sense something magical behind this door, but I can’t find another means to open the door besides the provided whatever’s attached…” Joey peered around the door’s outer edges. “I’m curious to know what it is. If only I can find some way to open it. Hmm… is there a trick to this door? Maybe some kind of secret switch? I can’t seem to find anything else that can help us open the door at all–”
Teremy put his hand on Joey’s shoulder and gave the viera a gentle tug backwards. “Stand back.”
Joey did as he was told and took a few steps back. “Wait, Teremy. What–”
CRASH.
The shattering of wood and splinters flying everywhere in front of Joey’s eyes answered his question. Joey watched, stunned, as a well-placed kick not only felled the door, but destroyed it. Only an archway and indents from the side of the hinges where the metallic pieces used to stay left any indication that a door had once remained.
Behind the door sat a giant ewer of ornate decoration, radiating magical energies just as Joey had surmised. However, the joy of such discovery had washed away in the face of Joey’s shock.
Nanamo raced over as fast as her short legs could carry her. “That great noise gave me quite a scare. Is everyone all right?” Unperturbed, she peered into the archway. “'Twould seem you discovered the custodian's closet. Have you heard the Ul'dahn folktale of the magicked ewer? 'Tis said that it could scoop up any amount of water at once, and was locked away after it drained an entire oasis.” She placed a hand to her chin. “Talk of jugs behind barred doors reminded me of the legend, is all. Shall we continue on?”
As Nanamo headed through the gate, Teremy turned to Joey, grinned, and gestured to the former door with his thumb. “Found it,” he said triumphantly and followed the sultana.
The shock of Teremy’s less than refined methods still left Joey in a state of disbelief. Until his mind allowed him to move, he stared incredulously at the miqo’te. When Joey came to, the first thing he did was express his feelings in words.
‘There’s the mark–the Scion’s envoy, all by his lonesome,’ Joey thought.
Or was that his thought?
The worst part about his partial telepathy, besides his lack of control over what thoughts filtered through his mind, was that he often had no idea as to whose thoughts they belonged to upon hearing them. Were they his? Or the ones of those beside him? Most often he opted for the former until the person beside him immediately reiterated or acted upon those thoughts. At least in this case, the mention of a mark gave him pause.
‘That’s odd. I’m not out to get anyone. My imagination’s not running away from me because I’m bored, is it?’ Joey held a hand to his chin and frowned. ‘The only reason why I’m here is…’
He glanced to the side where Alphinaud and Alisaie spoke to what seemed to be Raubahn and Lyse–currently two of the most important figureheads of Ala Mhigo. Around the room, many other similarly important figureheads from all over Eorzea spoke in merriment amongst each other. Meanwhile, Joey felt out of place and out of dress, only here because the twins had requested he come by persuasive invitation and holding the viera’s individual hands. He even gave up the safety of having a weapon nearby, as all visitors were forced to forfeit any kind of armaments upon entry. And now, with him being the odd man out in the room as in that he held no great importance to anywhere or anyone, he looked down at his only company: a long table full of uneaten hors d’oeuvres.
‘... free food. I think? Am I even allowed to eat any of this?’
His red eyes glanced around the room with his usual and unintentional sharp gaze. Near the back of the room, a small cluster of guards gathered around. One even pressed his hand to his ear to communicate through linkpearl. Their voices remained hushed enough as to not alert any of the guests, yet words crept through Joey’s mind in a voice that sounded like his, but words of other origin.
Someone… not here… dangerous… find…
‘So I’m not just imagining things. They must be looking for someone. Then where did this thought come from?’ Joey wondered. ‘I’m not just being neurotic, am I?’
Only the white noise of lively chatter answered his paranoid questions. He had a feeling that if he told anyone then surely someone would pat him on the back, tell him to loosen up, enjoy the festivities, and all sorts of things people reiterated to him over the years. Who knew? Perhaps those past and future voices were right. Maybe the tension came from his discomfort. Even now, he couldn’t help but compare everyone’s formal, well-decorated attire to his bright red coat. He felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb, but in the worst way possible. The more his thoughts landed at the idea that someone could possibly be staring at him, the more he fidgeted.
He had to get his mind off of his nervousness. Somehow. Some kind of distraction. Anything.
‘Well, let’s say I’m not being paranoid and there is an assassin here. I mean, why else would the guards be making some sort of coordinated effort?’ Joey glanced to where he had seen the guards to see that they had completely dispersed. ‘Now let’s say I was an assassin. Where would I be lurking?’
He glanced out the window.
‘A sniper? Possibly, but considering the number of guards outside the building…’
Seeing as one of the guests finally decided to eat, Joey quietly helped himself to a few bunches of grapes. Quietly, of course, just in case he got in trouble for being unworthy to touch some sacred food of the rich.
Another quick glance around the room showed those same guards still within the wall’s confines.
‘Then this assassin is somewhere inside the building? This same room?’
No one will ever detect knife hidden under my dress. Just one casual chipper, a clumsy fall and an accidental scratch and–oops!
Joey blinked.
Either Joey’s paranoia had soared to dangerous levels, his imagination was so bored it weaved further tales in his head, or there was indeed an assassin in a room.
At that very moment, a well-dressed hyur sauntered slowly and casually within eye-shot. His gaze pretended to look very interested in a nearby potted plant but instead looked at the position of her hands. Sure enough, her fingers pointed downwards, careful not to touch anyone or anything, especially her own person.
‘That has to be her.’ Joey reasoned. ‘All right. If I’m just imagining things, then I’m in a world of trouble. But if I’m right…’
As Joey’s thoughts spun, the woman continued to saunter towards Alphinaud.
‘There’s only one way to know for sure.’
More thoughts formed in Joey’s head–this time concrete thoughts that painted a picture in his head, contingency scenarios in case something else were to happen, but all pointing into one direct plan. He began to walk towards her from her right, looking forward while keeping an eye on her position from the corner of his eye.
‘If I’m wrong, then it’s better to be wrong than if I was right and did nothing.’
His mind was made up. And his plan soon reached its first stage when he walked directly in front of her. The hyur bumped into him, causing her to recoil a few steps back as though she had ran into a brick wall. The force of the impact was so great, in fact, that she sailed backwards, about to make first-hand collision to the ground. With a look of feigned concern, Joey reached out towards her and grabbed the side of her dress. He yanked his arm upwards, appearing to try and pull her back up, but instead, her dress tore.
“By the twelve, I’m so sorry for my clumsiness!” Joey cried–both to alert the people around him, and to mask himself simultaneously casting a sleep spell.
He never needed to chant to cast magic. And thankfully, the would-be assassin had no such immunity to magic either, as not even his cries nor the murmurs of the crowd stirred the hyur from slumber. For a brief moment, Joey wondered if he had caused a scene for nothing, and mentally prepared for his impending embarrassment. But his doubts and paranoia quickly faded away in the reality that laid before him.
A knife laid bare on a holster wrapped around the hyur’s thigh. Joey hadn’t been hearing things.
Joey opened his mouth to announce his feigned surprise about the knife, but in the end, he didn’t have to say anything. The three guards who had given themselves a mission to apprehend someone dangerous had found their target. Joey took a few steps back so he didn’t get in the way of the guards doing their jobs. A few shouts from the guards later and soon each manner of guest were quickly shuffled out of the room.
“It’s never a dull moment in one of these gatherings, isn’t it?” quipped the voice of Alisaie. Joey looked to his left to see Alisaie standing beside him.
“Then let’s take this as a sign that we’ve worn out our welcome, shall we?” said Alphinaud at Joey’s other side. “Perhaps it’s time we make our own exit as well.”
Joey nodded. He had nothing else to add.
The viera found himself quickly shuffled out of the room. Just before he left, he looked to see the guards had found other manner of dangers on the would-be assassin, such as a vial that no doubt contained some form of toxins. Perhaps that would be a story for another day, but at the very least, Joey breathed a sigh of relief that everyone–especially the envoy in question–was safe.
He also hoped that the food was nice. Too bad he never got to enjoy it.
Friends! I occasionally get crafty, and I needle-felted this little creechur for my best friend @adeat awhile ago. I was so proud of how he turned out (pride is a rare occurrence for me hahaff) that I decided to enter him in the FanFest art contest, and he got into the finals!
Entry #C-21 in Crafted Physical Works
The story behind this little guy is that when adeat got his first house on FFXIV back in HW (I think?), I gifted him a little in-game stuffed Ahriman that I crafted just for him. We’ve since changed servers and houses a few times, but he’s always kept this Ahriman on display somewhere and it warms my heart that he values him (and thusly our friendship) so highly.
Blinky in his current home on Sargatanas. He listens to stories from travelers and records them in the Unending Journey. To those who wish to recount these tales, he shows them through his eye like a film projector.
I’m just making that up. Maybe.
But what I’m not making up is that I am super proud that my best friend got into the finals! Please vote for her and Blinky Jr.!
Tagged by: @emptymanuscript. Thank you very much! I was tagged on my sideblog, @quasionion. Posting here first since this is my main blog. I hope that’s okay!
...and anyone else who wants to do it! I don’t know who else has a WIP going on, but if you do, I’d love to see it!
Rules for those who want to participate are that you post 7 lines from a wip of yours and tag some other people.
This is from something I’ve been joking calling my therapy story. It’s a combination of martial arts and family drama. I have no real great ambitions for this story and I didn’t really intend to share this with anyone. But uh, this is the story I’m working on right now, so here it is? :D~ Also I ended up posting paragraphs + an extra two for some context, so... sorry. I’ll put the blurb under a cut so I don’t bother anyone’s dashboard.
Kaito is the story’s protagonist. Kaiken is Kaito’s twin brother, and Go is their father. This part takes place when the brothers are 12 years old. (The brothers are 21 in the story proper.)
Kaiken, who had been practicing various ballet moves to pass the time, walked over and slapped a firm hand on Kaito’s shoulder. “Then Kaito can come to the tryout. See what it’s like to be me in person.”
‘It’s not like I don’t ever want to,’ Kaito thought bitterly.
Go’s frown deepened. “I don’t want Kaito to go. This matter is between Kaiken and Coach Kurote alone.”
“Why not?” Kaiken shot back. “It’s not like Kaito’ll be participating or anything. I don’t see the problem.”
Kaito flinched. His brother’s words stung harder than any punch the elder twin landed on him. Father, Kaito expected nothing less out of him, but his own brother? Kaito shook his head. Kaiken was right and once again, Kaito’s destiny was to sit quietly in the shadows. Kaito bowed his head, only to snap out of his reverie when Kaiken’s grip tightened. Not threatening, but firm. Reassuring.
Like how Kaiken used to do.
‘Kaiken, what are you…? Even after you…? I don’t get you. I don’t get you at all.’
But then something about Kaiken’s grip made Kaito do a double take. Like a ripple effect that slowly escalated from just a small push, Kaito felt a quiver—subtle, but gradually increasing in intensity.
Reblog this if you are over 35, play FFXIV, and are involved in the fan community in some way (screenshots/gpose, writing, fanfiction, posting FFXIV content).
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