geirskogul

i want to do right by this feeling in my gut | affiliated with aldebaran

[dragonsights-blog]

citizenofhieron‌:

Hadrian spends the better part of the day wandering the woods near Lampadias Suites. He hasn’t seen any wolves yet. He’s not really sure what to do if he finds one.

He’s about to give up and head back for the night when an elven man marches up to him and starts waving things around in his face.

“A post…moogle?” Hadrian repeats, frowning. His powers of language must be leaving him, like everything else. Why did people always have to be so rude?

Not certain of what this unusually tall elf is trying to communicate, Hadrian reaches out and tries to take the letter from his hand.

Estinien pulls his hand back in alarm as the man tries to take the letter. He gives him a frown, eyes narrowing. He tucks it away into his tunic again, still eyeing the man with suspicion now. “A postmoogle,” he repeats with some exasperation.

“You know,” he starts off. “They’re... about this big.” He indicates a shape with his hands, frowning. “Round, white... fluffy... a pom atop their heads, little wings. And a little hat too. With a little mail bag.”

He stares at the man now, expectant. As if the man is an idiot for not knowing what a moogle is. “I have to deliver a letter, and I need it to get to its destination quickly.”

[dragonsights-blog]

alamhiganpunchmachine‌:

@dragonsights

When Yda wakes, it’s with a start. The last thing she remembers is… the void. Not nothingness- with Mother Hydaelyn, nothing is nothingness. There’s always something, the sense of peace, of floating, bodiless, of colors that no living eye could ever understand, sounds no living ear could ever comprehend. When she wakes, her cheeks are wet with tears for the loss of it, of that peace. She knows, instantly, that she’s alive- she can feel her body, feel the aches and pains she’s been without for so long, feel her mask heavy on her face- and she’s glad, she is, because it means Hydaelyn gave her another chance, it means she gets to see her sister again and make sure that she’s safe, that if she enters the Scions like she talked about doing that she’ll have someone there when she starts encountering the worst atrocities that living beings can create… She’s glad. But she also misses it, already.

There will be time for peace later, though. There’s work to be done.

But it will have to wait, it turns out, because… she has no idea where she is. The doors that open easily to her touch seem to be common areas the likes of which she could only imagine, and she’s hesitant to touch anything in this mausoleum-silent living area, so she finds the stairs and descends, out into the oddly abandoned lobby, and then out the front door too-

And this place is eerie, but more importantly, there’s hail coming down in big chunks, and she shrieks and ducks back inside, brushing herself off with a low exhalation. Ooh… this isn’t right. This isn’t any place in Ala Mhigo she’s ever seen. This isn’t Sharlayan, or even Eorzea. Is it… Garlemald?

It’s then that her eyes catch on a tall figure in armor… Elezen, by the looks of his build. She’d mistaken him for a statue, at first. She gives another sigh, relieved, then takes a step towards him, lifting her hand in greeting. 

“Hello! Sorry, could you tell me where we are? I’m, mm, really lost,” and she laughs, awkward, the sound of her own voice strange in her ears.

Estinien is leaning against the banister of the stairwell, staring out at the hail before Yda closes the door, and he raises his eyebrows as Yda looks at him. Well. It looks like he isn’t going outside today. He’s a little distracted by that thought for a bit before he blinks and looks over at Yda.

“...Beats me,” he says with a shrug, blunt. “They call it Aldebaran Ark. Whatever that means.” He pauses, then, looking the woman over. She looks just as confused as he did when he first arrived, so he has to imagine that she’s new... Well. Newer than he is.

“And no, I don’t know how to get out of here either. Believe me, I’ve been trying.”

[dragonsights-blog]

hydaelynguard‌:

An Estinien, from Ishgard… Ah! She clasps her hands in front of her, delighted. “The Azure Dragoon! I have heard tell of you, from our mutual friend. I am Minfilia, of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn.”

She does not expect him to know her title - Ishgard’s Azure Dragoon was rumored to be ill suited to politics - but that is of little import here. She is simply relieved to find some common footing.

Estinien blinks in faint surprise. Somehow, it’s a shock to realize that she knows who he is. But it doesn’t seem like she’s from Ishgard? He stares at her blankly for a moment before he quickly recalls the Scions. Ah, right. “Oh,” he says, “our mutual friend... the Warrior? And the boy, Alphinaud, is part of your group as well.”

He gives a nod then. “Aye, I was the Azure Dragoon. No longer though, I am... retired. I suppose you could say. And there’s no need for an Azure Dragoon anymore, anyways.”

[dragonsights-blog]

glimmeringbone‌:

“Nacre, in fact. We doubt you know of it.” Adelaide tilts her head. “What is a linkshell? We have had some success using the device to ask questions of the Codex, but there is nothing like it in our home.”

"I don’t know of it,” Estinien says with a frown. “Ah... linkshells are communication devices. They produce pearls, and those in possession of the pearls are able to communicate across long distances,” he explains, and then he pauses. “I have seen that Codex’s information on this device, but I don’t know if I trust anything it may have to say. Do you find any stock in its words?”

[worldcylinder]

Visit Original Link

Noctifer Birmingham - The Mountain Goats

you reminded me of all the things you’d given up forever and you asked about the children and you asked about the weather

[athena-ishnuala]

First of my Ishgardian Groom project, Estinien Wyrmblood. More to come.

[llluvium]

some edgy dragoon boy that i did in class today

[moonstem]

his name is Nid

[alternativelistening]

Visit Original Link

Billions of Eyes - Lady Lamb the Beekeeper

[dragonsights-blog]

glimmeringbone‌:

“We are from elsewhere,” she allows, raising her chin. “Just as you are. Pardon us, and we’ll do the same for you, standing in the middle of the street.” She smiles ruefully and her eyes catch the awkward way Estinien holds his holophone, but she doesn’t mention it.

She moves around to his side, casually gesturing for him to walk alongside her. “Tell us, what were you doing?”

Us? Estinien has no idea what that’s about. He looks around, just to make sure that there really is just the two of them there. Huh. Ignoring that oddity of her speech, he simply stares at her for a moment before he does start to walk alongside her.

“What?” He says, and then he looks down at the phone in his hand. “Oh. Just trying to figure this out. It looks like... it functions as a linkshell. Looks like something out of Allagan ruins, too...” He cuts himself off. He’s rambling. Looking over at the woman again, taking in her regal air, she seems like... she’s got things in hand. “Where do you come from?” He asks. “Hydaelyn?”

[dragonsights-blog]

tabardalon‌:

The smile that settles itself on your face at the other’s words is grim, muted with the beginnings of bitter resignation. If you’re not alone here, and this other man does not seem as close to death as you do–the chances of this being some trick of Samot’s, keeping you from a proper rest, are terribly slim. How unfortunate; you can’t keep yourself afloat on denial quite as long as you’d hoped.

“I’m afraid I know about as little of this place as you do.” Your gaze slips sideways, wandering over carved pillars and looming walls, fishing for any identifying mark and coming up empty. All you know is that this place, these narrow streets, are terribly oppressive, and you have never been one for claustrophobia but you can’t help but wish for a glimpse of clear sky. “I was only just–woken up,” you amend hastily, putting revived away for now. “You’re the first person I’ve had the good fortune to see.”

You pause, one beat, two. “You may be better finding something to climb if you want to get a proper sense of things.” The idea of knocking on one of these doors to get to a staircase makes you shudder, but it’s better than wandering this maze directionless for the rest of your life.

“Hmm,” Estinien says, staring up at the buildings. “You are the first I have seen as well. I woke in a room, alone. Before that, I was in Othard. On the Steppe...” He looks over at the man of stone, wondering if he knows what Estinien is talking about. “From where do you come? Eorzea?” He looks him over, considering.

He looks around again, feeling almost paranoid. These twisting streets make him far too nervous. Not enough room in the event of a fight. Estinien gives a sigh then, and he looks back at the man. “We may be able to climb one of these buildings. That aside, if we were to walk far enough in one direction we should come to the end of something.” He pulls a bit of string from around his wrist as he talks, pulling long silver hair back and tying it securely. It’s a little distracting not having it back in a tight knot all the time these days. Perhaps he needs to cut it soon.

“That is, if you’re going to tag along. I’m not much for teamwork, but in such a situation I suppose strength in numbers must be useful.”

[dragonsights-blog]

@citizenofhieron

Given that he’s apparently trapped here, Estinien supposes he’ll have to make do. And part of making do means settling some important things back home. Like writing a letter to send back home so certain Speakers of the House of Lords won’t send overworked Warriors of Light or knights off to turn Othard upside down looking for him. The letter’s all written now, it’s brief and to the point and tucked away in his tunic. Now all he has to do is mail it.

That’s... what he’s working on right now. Halone, he hates those things, but he has to find one to send this damn letter for him. And as much as he hates the idea of having to talk to some stranger and ask for help too, that’s exactly what he’s going to do.

He catches sight of a man in armor, and he steels himself. Right, he’ll ask this one for help. “You,” he says to make himself known, walking over and pulling the letter from his tunic to wave it idly. “I’m looking for a postmoogle. Do you know where I can find one?”

[dragonsights-blog]

notaheretic‌:

“How else do you explain this place if it isn’t the afterlife?”, Fray returned, now angered and on the defensive. “You shouldn’t let momentary comfort fool you into feeling secure, this may well be a trap.” They weren’t quite sure what kind of trap would work like this, but Estinien didn’t need to know that. 

Then they remembered his question. “If you do know me it wouldn’t be by name or appearance. I’ve…”, they trailed off, suddenly realizing their complete lack of weapon. If it were to come to a fight, they could at best attempt to cast a spell. “I’ve worked as a mercenary, keeping the peace inside Ishgard and Coerthas. Keeping the peace.” It was theoretically not a lie. 

Estinien stared at Fray. Mercenary...? He raised his eyebrows, looking a little skeptical there. “I’ve never heard of mercenaries working within Ishgard. Why would they have to? There are already the knights.” Granted, he’d been away from home for a while now, hadn’t he?

“Is this... recent?” He frowned, eyes narrowing a little as he thought through this. “And there are a number of explanations, but the afterlife is a ridiculous one. I’m not dead, for one. And you clearly aren’t either. This is not the afterlife, and maybe you should spend less time worrying about where it is and spend more time thinking about what to do about it. Something useful.”

[dragonsights-blog]

newsequence‌:

A striking figure - yes, the regal outline staring intently out at the ocean does cut a striking figure, at least to an observer who doesn’t know that the Machine is seethingly, furiously glaring at the horizon in lieu of staring directly at the stupid smug pompous self-important red orb in the sky.

Its bright eyes are striking, too, when it whirls on Estinien, seemingly offended by its own surprise.

“Do I know? Know? No, I know nothing! My senses have been stolen from me!” The Machine wrings its hands in agitation. “It escapes my understanding how you all retain your sanity when you must know how limited you are!”

It would appear that this person is a little upset.

Estinien takes a step back. Ah. Great. Just great. He grimaces, and he puts his hands up. “It was just a damn question,” he says with a scowl. “Either you know or you don’t, no need to be hysterical about it.” He takes another step back, just for good measure.

“It looks to me like you’re the one who’s got a weak grasp on sanity,” he can’t help but add drily, nose wrinkling. Maybe he can just... move around this oddball and continue on to learn for himself.

“What the hell are you on about anyways? You look perfectly normal to me. You can see and hear and speak, can’t you?” Well. Mostly normal. The eyes are a little terrifying.

[dragonsights-blog]

hydaelynguard‌:

“Yes, there are these lovely little cottages…” She points behind her. ‘Out here’ strikes her as odd - did he travel far to get here?

“I am from Eorzea… I hope I am not being presumptuous in assuming you are as well? I am no expert, but that looks to be dragoon armor.”

Estinien feels, then, incredibly relieved. It’s almost comforting to have someone else from home here. Makes everything feel a little less bewildering and alien. He nods simply. “Aye,” he says, “I am from Ishgard, you presume correctly.” Is he forgetting something in his introduction? No, he couldn’t be. Augh, he’s always hated the dancing around and fussing of introductions.

Oh.

“My name is Estinien,” he says. “Yours?”

[dragonsights-blog]

forsakenbygodsandmen‌:

Her stare was vacant and tired over the glittering sea before her - she had found there to be many in this place, but this solid imitation brought her a kind of peace. The sunlight glinting off the shards inside of it provided an illusion of movement, a thousand tiny eddies, like the ice of home even while her bare feet stand on hot, grainy sand.

She thought she would be alone here while she figured this out - this place, whether it was some afterlife or some trial or some vision that had gone on too long. A walk of lonely penance.

Maybe that is why some strange Ishgardian - with hair like hers and knowledge of her thrice-cursed name - was telling her she was dead. It is almost more chilling how that fills her with no fear at all - and makes her feel emptier instead.

Ysayle had never imagined Her such a vengeful goddess. 

“I’m dead? Is that a fact?” She asks without turning to face him, only glancing his direction before turning her gaze back to the shore, “Or a threat?”

She doesn’t seem particularly surprised to see him. But then, why would she, if she’s some kind of vision or apparition? He looks out over the ocean, as if he can tell what she’s so arrested by by doing so. He supposes that the ocean must be a sight to behold for any of their people that don’t stray far from Coerthas’ embrace.

When he looks at her again, he blinks in some confusion and then he sighs heavily. “No,” he says. “It is no threat, though I suppose it’s reasonable to expect from me. You and I both know it is a fact.” He pauses then, a heavy silence in the air. Too many words to say, and all the breath used on speaking to a ghost. Where should he even begin?

“Am I to thank Halone for this... encounter?” He asks, looks out over the ocean again. It would make sense in some kind of cosmically funny way, for Her to put him through any number of trials for all the times that he ever cursed Her.

“I have never been subject to otherworldly visions, but there’s a first time for everything. Have you some kind of message or warning for me? Is that how this works?”

[dragonsights-blog]

glimmeringbone‌:

@dragonsights Adelaide returns from the train station in the Sea of Nectar in a hurry, at least for her. Her careful, smooth stride is a little faster than usual. The travel back, and the sight of the emptiness of space, brought up resentment at this theft of her power. She’s not in a good mood.

She absolutely doesn’t bump into Estinien from behind, though, because that would be ridiculous. She pauses as she’s about to, and draws backwards.

This makes... no sense. Estinien stares at the holophone in his hand, utterly mystified by it. Alright. It’s not like the concepts of it isn’t at least a little familiar, it’s just... very new. Thankfully he’s distracted from his pondering of the screen though, when he feels someone close at his back. He turns instantly, and he almost reaches for his missing lance until he catches himself.

“Watch where you’re going,” he says, frowning. He straightens then, and he tries to pull himself together. Kind of. “It’s rude to almost bowl people over. Are you from here?” He gestures vaguely to... all of it.