Escape to Eorzea

Character blog for FFXIV. Sofhina Khotgor, M'nagali Chai, Cyre Lhyrea, and Tialdae Vetalius on Mateus. Main blog: emmygosa

[escapetoeorzea]

ok so like, is there an xiv screenshot community on tumblr? I might move all my stuff here

[escapetoeorzea]

Prompt 8: Tepid

“What do you mean, the response was tepid?”

“I mean there seemed to be a lack of interest, Centurio, at least from a first impression.” To say that Tialdae quo Vetalius is shaken would be nothing short of a vast understatement. The confusion is so strong that it starts to eat away at the very core of her being, the very solidity of her self.

“Let me get this straight. I have given them a report with demonstrable evidence that we can take more peaceful - and importantly to the Empire, less costly - efforts toward the pacification of Ala Mhigo and their response was...”

“Tepid. Yes. Ignored, to a degree, if I may be so bold as to editorialize.”

She brings a hand up to run through her short, dark hair, letting it fall in a swoosh across the side of her head.

“Tepid.” Tia repeats, as though she hadn’t heard the soldier correctly. Like this woman would have any reason to lie to her. “The Canus Lupi are going on murdering sprees to suppress dissent and I offer them an alternative, one that helps soften the image of the Empire in Ala Mhigo and their response was...”

“That was a point of contention, as I understand it.”

Tia stares at the woman like she has an extra head. Like she’s not just delivering a report she herself had asked the woman to deliver.

“The way it was relayed to me is that the upper command is... Disinclined to undo one of the central pillars of Legatus Baelsar’s strategy in the region. They feel it would be disrespectful to his memory despite his failure.”

Tia’s eyes are focused intently on the desk in front of her, dancing across folders and papers and notebooks... This is everything she had been working for. This is what she had built her command upon. If they weren’t going to let her...

Wait.

“Tepid. Tepid... Is not a no.” She finally announces, giving a firm nod before handing a file over to the woman on the other side of the desk. “Bring me this woman. She’s an informant already, I’m having her reassigned to my command. Let her know that she will be working with me and upon completion of my assignment, she’ll be given citizenship. I’m going to make this work, no matter how tepid they may be about it.”

----------------------

It’s only a few short years later that Tia remembers how the mission started. Right there in her office. The first time she chose to defy her command, even if it was merely bending the rules. Part of her wonders what that past self would think of her now, standing outside Ala Mhigo, loading her gunblade with shells destined for each one of those men and women who held a tepid opinion of striving for peace.

[escapetoeorzea]

Prompt 5: Cutting Corners

They’d done it. The rumors were true. 

Gali slumps against the pile of plush cushions in the backroom of the pillowhouse. The Griffin had summoned a primal, they said, apparently right in front of the Scions of the Seventh Dawn and even the Warrior of Light. A message, clear as the night sky, one that Garlemald could no longer ignore. One the Grand Companies couldn’t ignore.

What is she going to do?

She has a life here in Ul’dah, doesn’t she? She has work - even if it’s much less than ideal - and she has a little hole in the wall place to lay her head and shelter others coming to the city, she has food, she has some degree of safety... Why would she go home? Why now?

A part of her struggles with the corners the Resistance cut to get here. No, not the Resistance. That was the rub of it, really. She’d always had this feeling deep down in her gut that there was something wrong about the Griffin. This confirmed it, really. No self-respecting member of the Resistance she knows would do something like this, not at the cost of so many lives, Grand Company or Ala Mhigan.

She could stay here, then, and change hearts and minds. That would help, right? Slip in a little propaganda after giving a client what they want, convince people to... What? To go and help? To be kinder to the refugees after what just happened? Gods, it hadn’t worked this long, why would it now? Especially after one of the most famous Ala Mhigan refugees used the people of the city.

Gali’s jaw is set as she pulls herself out of the pile of cushions, her muscles aching already for the softness they provided; she’d been dancing all afternoon and her limbs were begging her for more of a break. To sit down. Rest.

No, no more cutting corners. No more half measures. No rest. She has a long journey ahead, and she’ll be damned if she’s going to let the world change around her while she rests and hides.

[escapetoeorzea]

Prompt 6: Onerous

“No, see, y’see, I’m a fighter. Now, not like a pro fighter or anything, but that’s kinda weird right? Like, what’s the distinction between a pro fighter ‘n someone who fights in the pits, right? Like, if I go fighting in the fucking pits, and people bet on me, and people pay me to fucking kick the shit out of someone else, I think that makes me pretty fucking pro, right? Is there some kind of fucking league that tells me if I’m allowed to say I throw my fists at people professionally? Ok yeah, before you fucking say it, yes I know that’s exactly what the fucking gladiator’s guild is but this is fucking Ul’dah ‘n not everyone has this shit so don’t fucking look at me like that. “But I’m a fighter, so I know the best way to deal with an injury, right? Because you find yourself down in those fucking fighting pits ‘n you’re gonna get your ass kicked. Like, all the fucking time right? Basically every time you step in there you’re getting something broke and something is gonna draw blood, so you just gotta be ready for it and not be a little delicate dolly about getting something broken. The key though, see here’s the key, no see you’re looking away like you don’t believe me but believe me, I got the key. 

“The key, and I know the key, the key is to make sure you don’t hurt anything what doesn’t need hurting. Take a punch to your cheek? Get your nose broken? Fuck that, you don’t need either of those. I mean you do need your nose or whatever I guess but you don’t need it not fucking broken that’s for sure. So defending yourself in a fucking fight is less about being tough all over and more about like, knowing you can take a fucking punch in the shoulder and swing right back.

“So what I’m saying is, I’m saying the same principle works for getting laid. Hear me- no, hear me out. You wanna get your fingers wet, or your dick wet, or whatever the fuck you got wet I’m not going to judge, but if you want to do that it’s like being in a fight and… Wait, what the fuck were we talking about?

“Oh! Right yeah. I guess I’ll have an ale or whatever. Put it on my tab, name’s Sofi. If it says my tab is like deep in the negative no it’s not and fuck you.”

[escapetoeorzea]

Prompt 3: Temper

The end of Cyre’s staff slides through the small pile of sand, half of the grains making a faint, hushed clink as they tumble around with each other. There has always been something so viscerally satisfying about the process of turning sand into glass. Something that satisfies the part of her that needs satisfying when she’s lost her temper. 

It doesn’t matter what it was about this time, but when does it ever? Her mothers would chastise her, of course, as though neither of them ever loses their temper. “It’s not about losing your temper, it’s about what you do with it,” mum would undoubtedly say, as though that means anything at all. As though she’s actually, genuinely putting the clan at risk by throwing a ball of fire across a sand dune. 

Perhaps she does need a better outlet for her temper than wanton destruction, she wonders as her staff is left to slide down the incline so she can fall onto her back, stretched out across a drift of powder-fine sand. Her eyes drift across the blanket of stars stretched out across the sky, of the endless expanse of endless worlds that define the course of her life but never ever tell her quite enough. 

What do they know? Of all the space in all the vast empty, who is she to matter so much that a little fire could change the course of so many lives? A little fire. A few flowers. 

A single, world-altering seed. 

Perhaps she can exercise a little more control.

She picks up a chunk of obsidian, holding it so the light of the moon dances across its surface. She does really like making the sand pretty, though. 

[escapetoeorzea]

Prompt 2: Bolt

The engine doesn’t roar. The engine doesn’t purr. The engine screeches. Fear spikes through Gali’s spine, every nerve in her body reacting in an instant. There’s only two choices in an instance like this, when an engine isn’t making the noise that it’s supposed to make. Flight. She can run, far far away, and while the resulting explosion likely wouldn’t damage the workshop all that badly, nothing she couldn’t repair, she could be far less likely. Magitek is so finicky, after all, and while she doesn’t think she did anything wrong, there’s no way to know in an instant whether there’s a combustive feedback loop. She could have mixed up the feeder and clarifier lines, she could have redirected the displacer lines back into the clean fuel, she could have incorrectly configured the regulator… Any of those could mean a fiery ball of death. 

Fight. 

She could solve the problem. It’s a risk, always, especially when she has no idea if turning the engine off will actually do anything. She could throw herself into the problem, just as she always does, and pay with her life. If she doesn’t, the engine is toast, that much is sure. Even if it doesn’t mean a fiery ball of death, it could rend metal and blow capacitors and shatter fuel tanks. No, she’s not ready for that. Not after she had this stupid thing hauled all the way from the frozen wasteland, all the way down to her workshop. She has to fight. She just has to. The engine screeches for little more than the space of a few heartbeats before delicate fingers pull the catch on the valve actuators. The screeching only grows louder, pressure building inside the engine without anywhere to vent to. Screeching. If it’s screeching, that means- Those fingers reach blindly under the engine, twitching away violently as they come in contact with superheated metal. Not there. Not that one either. She yelps in pain as she finds the loose sheet of metal meant to allow access to the underside of the valves. It shouldn’t be loose. 

Her failure is pried loose in moments, the heat and pressure finally released through the offending hatch. It’s sloppy, too sloppy, she realizes as she settles in against the far wall, trying desperately to catch her breath. She could have lost the motorcycle, she could have died. 

All because she forgot one stupid fucking bolt.

[escapetoeorzea]

Prompt 1: Cross

*It’s going to be fine.* Sofhina Tumet has repeated those words - or something close to them - in her head so many times in the past bell that they start to sound just as foolish as they actually are. Really, she only has one reason to believe that everything is going to be fine, but each minute makes it just a little bit harder to rely on that one reason. She trusts Skhara with her life, of course she does. After all the two of them have been through together, how could she not? Oh sure, there’s only so much camaraderie among criminals, especially in Kugane, but… But no. He’s done right by her so far every single time. Sure this is a test of that faith, of sorts. They’d never relied on each other quite so much than they do for this particular job… *It’s going to be fine.* There’s definitely not going to be any problems. This is simple. She’ll get the signal from her partner when all is clear, she’ll break in through the basement, she’ll head straight for the office… They already have a fence for the stupid sword too. Yeah. How could she ever doubt him, right? He’d already done so much work to secure the fence for them, something Sofi would never have been able to do on her own. 

She just needs to trust. Skhara is going to deliver for both of them. He *has* to, there’s no way he won’t. They’ve got this. They’ve *got* this. The screeching call of a raven cuts through the silence in the world around her. Just one means nothing, but- And there’s the second. That’s the signal. The latch on the basement door is popped with ease. She’d practiced on a lock just like this one until she could do it in her sleep, why should the real thing be any more troublesome? She’s more silent than a whisper as she drops into the basement, a ghost as she makes her way through the pitch darkness. 

Just a little further, just a little more… The stairs to the hallway are just ahead…

The sudden illumination in the basement blinds her temporarily, and before she can see through the spots in her eyes, she’s already scrambling back the way she came but colliding with something big and soft like… Like clothed muscle. “Well well well.” Sofi knows that voice. She doesn’t even need to see properly to know who that voice belongs to. “Guess that little shit was right after all, huh? See boys, looks like we caught our little thieving rat.” She can only see vague shapes but there must be a dozen people in the room, every single one holding a weapon, every single one at least twice her size. Her muscles beg her to run or to fight or to break away but a meaty fist is wrapping around her neck and lifting her from the ground and bringing her eye level with the head of one of the most powerful crime families in Kugane. Her mark. “You’ve crossed the wrong man, you disgusting little monster.” The sneer in his voice is as plain as the stale tea and tobacco on his breath, as the glint of gold on his tooth as that sneer turns to an insidious grin. “Let’s see if you can’t find you a way to pay us back.”

[escapetoeorzea]

Prompt 7: Nonagenarian

Today, grandmother turns 90.

It is a joyous day, of course, and one that we celebrate across the entire clan. We’ve settled down for the next few weeks, it seems. The Mothers - specifically mine - think it better for her to rest a little, to enjoy her day without the wears of travel. I’m inclined to agree even if… 

Will I look that good when I’m her age? Will I see that age? She doesn’t strike me as a day over five epochs, to think she’s near eight… It’s hard to know, truly, how many of us will live to be her age, after all. So many of the Daughters throughout time haven’t even lived long enough to become a Mother, what with the violent lives we so often lead. My mother’s sister, after all. I think it was only two years she sat as a Daughter before mahtim defeated her in the ritual. How a woman could fall in love with the woman who killed her sister, even in ritual, even with her… Problems is beyond me. But I don’t question my parents’ love. 

There is no small challenge to serving in Bole’s Succor. We are the core of Clan Lhyrea, after all. We are the mechanisms that make it tick, the true cause and purpose. That lineage, that purpose, lasts so much longer than just a single woman’s life, even at ninety. I am told it is since the fall of old Allag that we’ve watched over the Star Seed. Nurtured it. Fed it. That was many many generations ago, many before even grandmother. And hopefully will be many many still after. 

It’s complex of course. I would love to see the return of the World Tree, just as much as any Daughter throughout time. But it is a queer sort of hope, after all. I am so very fond of Eorzea and all of its peoples, and I so look forward to all that I can learn about those beyond its shores. And when the Bole grows once more and the star is consumed in eternal forest and life is brought back to its primordial state… Well. I won’t be around, much less those who I want to understand and know and care for. 

And what if it is me? What if that is the destiny my mothers have spoken of? What if I am to sprout the seed and bring about the Calamity to end all Calamities and begin this star anew?

Why is that thought so terrifying?

It seems that grandmother’s life has been what I want. She sits now amongst the Clan, each member abuzz with the celebration of her life, waiting here in this sequestered part of the Shroud where we can celebrate in private. Could I see myself there, a nonagenarian, loved by her clan, watching over two generations further of Daughters as they keep the faith?

It feels so incredibly wrong but I think, dear journal, that that is indeed my dearest wish. 

Don’t tell grandmother.

[escapetoeorzea]

Prompt 5: Matter of Fact

Settle down, kittens. It’s time to talk about Celestial Song. Yes, I know some of you older kids have heard this every year, but you’ll indulge me while I tell it again and then you can get to the feasting. Some of the older huntresses will tell you this is just a folk story, but I assure you, every word is a matter of fact. 

Now, when the star was new, there was nothing here but rock and ice and aether. And the Twelve, in their endless wisdom, they saw fit to bring life onto this star, to let it flourish and grow and become something beautiful. But even in all their great power, they couldn’t create life from aether on their own. They combined all of their power together into one place and grew from that the World Tree. 

Now back in those days, the World Tree was so big it stretched all the way into the heavens. But down at its roots, it began to grow new life. First, before anything, it grew all the plants and forests of the star, covering our planet in brilliant, vibrant colors of the rainbow and oh so much green. And as the tree grew these plants, it pulled in all the aether from the space between stars and shook in the astral winds and the leaves against each other made the most beautiful sound that has ever been made, even since. 

But the plants of the star couldn’t spread their seeds well enough and couldn’t grow as fast and as strong as they wanted, and there were too many plants so new ones couldn’t grow. So the trees implored the great World Tree to give them creatures that could roam the land, who could help nourish their roots, who could prune their old and their sick. And so the World Tree grew all the beasts of the land and sea and air. And as the tree grew these creatures, it pulled in all the aether from the space between stars and shook in the astral winds and the leaves against each other made the most beautiful sound that has ever been made, even since.

Soon these creatures too grew too out of control. Too many and they started to tip the balance of nature. And still worse, the beasts would die and some of them would nourish new plants, but most just went to waste on the forest floor. And so they begged the World Tree, give us something to control our populations, to give our deaths some purpose so we are not just left to rot. And so the World Tree grew like fruits the races of man and the others who could learn to hunt with tools. And as the tree grew these people, it pulled in all the aether from the space between stars and shook in the astral winds and the leaves against each other made the most beautiful sound that has ever been made, even since.

And these people called that sound the first song. The Celestial Song. 

Now I hear you asking what happened to the World Tree. Where is it, after all? Why do we not live beneath its boughs? Why do we not implore it to solve our ills? The threats to this star? 

Well that, my children, is a story for another day. Because right now, we celebrate this balance we have struck with plant and with creature. It is on this day that our leaders - you know, the Five Daughters, those who lead our clan - this day they are at the peak of their power. The great aether of creation - the Celestial Song itself - courses through them only once a year. 

Look up there, up into the sky. Yes, all of you, I told you you will humor an old woman this ritual once a year and then you can stuff your disrespectful little mouths. Those stars right there, see them in two straight lines? That is Bole, the trunk of the great World Tree. It is our guiding constellation, the light on our clan. But once a year, in fact in just a bell or so from now, the moon will climb just so in the sky and it will fit right there at the top of the trunk. Once more we will see our beloved World Tree and if you listen so very closely, as hard as your heart will let you, you’ll hear it. The Celestial Song. 

Don’t you look at me like that. I have heard it, as have many others, and the Five Daughters hear it loud and clear. And that’s a matter of fact.

[escapetoeorzea]

Prompt 1: Crux

“It’s simple really, when yeh think about it.”

Gali’s thumbs pass over the clasps of the crate, something aching in her bones that keeps her from pressing up, from flicking them and looking underneath the lid. She doesn’t need to know. It wouldn’t change a thing to understand what she is being asked to do. 

“That’s what the folks back home tell me anyway. Y’broke into these places all the time. Snuck things out. Not much different sneaking things in. Just a single crate.” The cool metal surface feels charged, like static actively transferring through the lead and into her skin, crackling along her bones and squeaking over her teeth. It doesn’t hurt, little more than faint dribbles of adrenaline striking at her nerves but it means… Something is under there. Something big. Why would she be asked to do this, after all? 

“We got the Gahlean uniform ready for yeh too. Even easier sneak than usual, I bet.”

She hadn’t been operating in more than a year. Why now? There had to be something about this that was dangerous or undesirable or…

Gali’s fingers dig into latches and flip them upward with a loud snapping, enough to draw the attention of the red-haired woman next to her, disrupting her impassioned plea in favor of focusing on the rapidly growing peek into the crate’s contents. By the look on her face, she has no idea what’s held inside either, her breath stopping in her lungs right along with Gali’s as that lead creeps open. 

The limited light in Gali’s apartment catches the contents and dances around the room, playing through the lazily wafting particles of dust and highlighting each one in strange, unnatural light. Crystals. Wall to wall, stuffed as tightly as possible, crystals. There’s only so many reasons to smuggle crystals into a Garlean facility. 

It could be a plant. Some kind of misdirection to show the Eorzean Alliance the Garleans are up to something immediate and force a confrontation. That had been one of the vague plans, after all. Push the Grand Companies into a conflict, force them to march on Garlemald’s forces in Gyr Abania so they might help free it. “Probably some kind of bomb.” Gali’s guest echoes, tilting her head to the side and peering closer at the contents only barely visible. “Aetherbomb most like. Blow a right big hole in the Wall. See ‘em try to close that back up.” But the rumors…

Ice dribbles its way through Gali’s veins, freezing over the static that had taken up residence with her contact with the lid. Could those rumors be true? Would the Griffin truly try to draw a primal onto this star to defeat Garlemald? It sounds truly insane, like some propaganda Garlemald would shout on the streets of Ala Mhigo. A false flag to blame them and start rounding up Resistance members…

Like they are now. This very minute no doubt. 

Wouldn’t it be worth it? Wouldn’t she do the selfsame thing? If it meant saving Ala Mhigo, driving the Imperials from her borders, wouldn’t she pull down the fury of the heavens themselves on those bastards? If given the chance, wouldn’t she complete the summoning herself?

She could be a part of it. Right here and right now. She would only have to say a simple ‘yes’ and she would return to the life she’s comfortable in. What had she thought, dancing for creepy monetarists? Kneeling for anyone who would throw just enough gil at her madame? A proud daughter of Ala Mhigo kneels for no one. This was her time to return to true form, to take this crux in her life and throw away the trappings of M’nagali, exotic dancer from distant Ala Mhigo, and take back the comfort of her homeland. The comfort that comes in purity of cause, of purpose. 

She is a daughter of Ala Mhigo and she would give her last breath for her siblings to be free once more. 

But maybe…

“I can’t. If I leave the pillowhouse, they’ll come after me.”

Maybe she can’t give this.

“I could put people at risk. I could put the whole Resistance at risk.”

A primal? How many would she inadvertently kill by helping in its summoning? Garleans would die of course, but how many sons and daughters of Ala Mhigo just like her?

“I can’t, I’m sorry.” The latches snap closed once more. “You’ll have to find someone else.”

But if that’s the right choice, why do those words taste like tar in her mouth?

[sea-wolf-coast-to-coast]

FFxivWrite2020 Starts in 1 Week!

September 1 - 30, 2020

If you’re an artist and you would like to volunteer to do a simple black & white illustration as a participation prize at the end of this challenge, you can volunteer here!

RULES & MORE INFO can be found here: https://ffxiv-write.carrd.co/

[lady-of-crowns]

FFXIV MODS LIST

Here’s a small list of alternatives to maneuvering around the dumpster fire that is the FFXIV TexTools discord server.

XIVMODARCHIVE: A website built for archiving all modding resources ( TexTools, TexTools ColorSet Editor, etc ), and mods, without having the join the FFXIV TexTools server. 

Requires your discord log-in to toggle off NSFW previews. Dashboard > Website Preferences: NSFW Content

FFXIV CONTRIBUTION DISCORD: An active modding community that participates together in commissioning mod makers. There is a system in place so that those who contribute have early-access to mods before its public release.

REPUTABLE MOD MAKERS:

BIZUART DISCORD 

MISTE’S DISCORD 

LORIMODS DISCORD 

REISMOD DISCORD

RUTABEGA DISCORD 

[lady-of-crowns]

Here are even more discord servers you should consider!

BLISS MODS - Hair / Makeup / Outfits / Art

MOON DOLL MODS - Hair / Accessories / Presets

MEGU MODS - Makeup / Outfits

KIYO MODS - Accessories / Hair

LYE MODS  - Accessories / Hair / Makeup

BEAUTY GUWUs - Accessories / Body / Hair / Makeup

[mooglemeet]

Alright! I think it’s time for another headcount — wouldn’t you agree?

Please like/reblog this post if you’re an active FINAL FANTASY XIV blog looking for other people to interact with! Whether you mostly post aesthetic, screenshots, rp, etc; as long as you’re a roleplayer to some degree, you like the game and you’re looking for new people to follow, this post is for you! By looking through the notes, you should be able to get a quick snapshot of what players are out there and what content might be of interest!

[emmygosa]

Character Features - Baju Fahxi

3-5 things per category that your character could be identified with.

♢ EMOTIONS / FEELINGS: Cocky - Amorous - Restless - Inquisitive - Scared ♢ GREETINGS: Waves - Finger-guns - Shit-eating grins ♢ COLORS: Sky blue - Lavender - Black - Brown - Blood red ♢ SCENTS: Leather  - Wood - Spice - Desert - Road dust ♢ CLOTHING: Belts - Button-ups - Revealing - Hunting gear - Thigh boots ♢ OBJECTS: Instruments - Hunting trophies - Magical tome - Bow ♢ VICES & BAD HABITS: Lothario - Selfish - Aimless - Escapist - Deceptive - Trouble-maker ♢ BODY LANGUAGE: Flirtatious - Confident - Welcoming - Swishing tail - Leaning in - Fanged grins ♢ AESTHETIC: Monster hunting - Debauched parties - Old libraries - Coyotes - Languid music - Tall tales - Chaos - Fame and fortune - Broken hearts and shattered dreams

Tagged by: @thanidiel​

Tagging: @vyrialicinderspear​ @kodisaran​ @gaytheil​

[escapetoeorzea]

Prompt 12: Fingers Crossed

What am I thinking? Is this really what I want to do with my life? Is this really the best decision?

Another shirt ends up in the rucksack, another pair of pants, another memory of her life. Those are going to be few and far between. They have to be. Baju can’t let herself become homesick after all.

Why would I ever be homesick of this place?

Should she tell someone? Mom will be upset. Furious. No, there’s no way Baju can look that woman in the eye and say “I’m leaving and you can’t stop me.” She can stop her. By emotion or brawn or simply all those nets. 

This place is sleepy and dreadful and boring and her talents aren’t appreciated, aren’t being utilized. Think of all the hunts out there!

She could tell Tali? Gaeb had left too. She was so mad when Gaeb left, so hurt. Twelve, Tali would be so mad with Baju for leaving. No. She can’t tell Tali. If her mother could keep her there, Tali could do it twice as well. Her mother would be angry, Tali would be hurt. That’s so much worse.

There’s so much gil to be had. Adventures and hunts and places to explore. And so. Many. beautiful. People. This is the right choice.

Lovete? Baju barks a laugh as she finishes shoveling her gear into the little bag. Lovete Neldawn would be the worst of all. Anger she might survive. Hurt - she’d caused hurt before, this wouldn’t be the last time. But Lovete? She would be disappointed. How many times had she disappointed the matriarch now? And this would outdo them all.

No. Baju can’t tell anyone. Not a soul. Nothing more than a simple note and then she’s running after Xuzi. 

Following my heart. Be back someday ❤️ Baju

This is the right choice, right?

Fingers crossed.

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

Mentions: @jessipalooza @sakialyn @vyrialicinderspear @pywriting

[thanidiel]

Prompt Eleven: “Snuff”

CW: Violence, gore, head injuries, mercy killing. 

Shit.

The deal went bad.

It went fucking bad, and that wasn’t supposed to fucking happen on her watch.

Chinatsu told her to watch Hoga’s temper for her and the Oyabun.

Xiaohu had just been leaning over, had just been baring her shoulders inward in the way drunken men liked, had just been about to lightly push the outsider back in his seat and pause the whole affair before it got ugly.

The outsider fucked it up with that hint of mistrust, disrespect, for the Oyabun’s offer, then Hoga fucked it all up in the way he thinks every problem can be resolved.

One moment, they were all sitting around the tea-table.

Keep reading

[escapetoeorzea]

Prompt 9: Hesitate

Baju had made a mistake. 

Certainly, that was every bit the Miqo’te’s entire THING; after all, she’d made a career out of getting herself in just the right kind of trouble, making the right kind of mistakes that still got her out alive. Happy little mistakes were Baju’s lifestyle. 

Still, as she stalks slowly through the thick forest, it occurs to her that maybe, just maybe, this would be the kind of mistake that got her in trouble. She and Xuzi had been tailing this stupid thing for days, and by now she was starting to worry that her hard-won reputation might end up damaged because of some stupid shapeshifting jerk. Not on her watch.

The string rest comfortably in the fingers of her glove, let mostly slack, perched just so to keep her arrow from falling out. She’d need to be ready. She’d need to make up for her mistake. 

A good monster hunter never lets their prey out of their sight if they can help it. Though, with most creatures, it’s little more than an inconvenience, a stumbling block solved by tracks or scent or magic. But a shapeshifter… The moment your eyes leave a shapeshifter, they could become any single thing in the forest. That ladybug fluttering lazily from one branch to the next? That marmot rooting around for acorns? That bush that rustles just a little too much?

That question is fresh on her mind as she rounds a tree and finds a little girl. Small with the fuzziest little tail Baju had ever seen. Pure and innocent and looking up at her with just the biggest eyes. Twelve if that doesn’t look exactly like one of Tali’s sisters - Hells, it could be the youngest, she could be out here.

And Baju hesitates. 

What if it’s her?

What if this is some innocent child out here?

What if-?

Xuzi rounds the opposite corner, too close to the child, mere feet away. “Baju, what’s going-?”

Fangs and claws and fur and flesh are on Baju’s companion, her best friend, inside a fraction of a second. Teeth are at her jugular, claws on her face, feet scrabbling at her chest. 

Each beat of Baju’s heart precipitates another arrow plucked from her quiver and loosed on the not-a-child, each one finding purchase, each one striking true. But there’s so much blood. There’s so much blood. And Xuzi just lays there, wounded, trying to pull herself together, clinging to life.

Because Baju hesitated.

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast @vyrialicinderspear