[A magitek engineer's blog]

It's the goggles that do it for you, isn't it? IC blog for Luke Gravespast (Lucien Korbinius), magitek engineer. [Follows come from jateshi, main blog]  ((A FFXIV RP blog, Balmung))

[glowinggunmetal]

@tulnekaya got me the most wonderful surprise present of Lucien as the Seven of Swords.

And holy god it's perfection. The negative space of the swords. The two left behind per traditional tarot imagery. The absolute perfect job of incorporating the magitek underneath him. The background. Ahhhhhhh it's so perfect for my delightfully terrible sociopath of a man.

The details - the face, the scars being right, his glasses, the hair, his facial hair- it's perfect.

[evilwizard]

it’s so hard in a relationship to know when to shift from sinister chuckles to full-on maniacal laughing

[dreamofdaffodilsstars]

[glowinggunmetal]

@charm-in-spades

[aetherartworks]

[ ART FIGHT ]

My 4th attack is for @jateshi and their Garlean OC Luke! ✨

[luna-azzurra]

10 Moments of Silence That Scream Louder Than Words

(because sometimes the loudest line is the one that never gets said)

⛧ They open their mouth to speak, and don’t. The moment hangs there like a held breath.

⛧ A coffee placed in front of someone without a word. Everything in that gesture.

⛧ Two people standing in the wreckage of a fight, breathing like they’ve run a marathon. Not looking at each other.

⛧ One glance across a crowded room—and both of them freezing mid-step.

⛧ Sitting in a hospital chair all night without saying anything. But never leaving.

⛧ Touching their arm when words won’t come. Just a squeeze. Just that.

⛧ Looking at someone like you want to say I’m sorry, I miss you, I need you—but all you do is nod.

⛧ Letting them walk away. Not because you want to. Because you don’t know how to stop them.

⛧ A letter folded, then torn up. No one ever sees it. But it almost changed everything.

⛧ Standing next to someone you love in the rain, and not going inside. Because silence is the only language you trust right now.

[killerwithknife-deactivated2025]

Why are threats illegal let me speak

[glowinggunmetal]

FFXIVWrite2024 - Day 28: Deleterious

Head bent over a desk Lucien was studying and a stylus scratched notes on parchment nearby while his thoughts wandered.

It was selfish, yes, to have done anything, said anything, in response to the rushed confession from her. He was the albatross, shadows at his heels. He had spent his turns slowly creating his idea of the star, of saving it from itself when the Black Wolf had failed and gods still rose, and Lucien had been born to the idea that it needed a guiding hand. His turns, his many many decades, had done nothing to remove the idea from his mind that the salvation and the grace needed for the star was going to need force behind it - free will and choice always left souls to cling to hopes, to dreams, instead of setting them aside for their betterment.

A scratch and long line.

It conflicted with her world that she believed in - that choice, so vital to her, was the foundation. That people were good to some level, worth saving instead of corralling and guiding like beasts. She felt they were all people, inherently, but she said she knew that it was not the same for him.

The stylus lifted, eyes flicking up to the ceiling and staring unblinking a few seconds longer than even his usual.

She believed they were good. But she followed her heart. He had, cautiously and slowly, finally admitted his own acceptance but now, in his office, he let the fleeting emotions return to their place like papers on a desk and he thought.

She was valuable, important. She was part of that small group which had become enough to consider stopping, enough to consider slowing, his plans for. She was part of what had him stare at the savages and the beasts and tilt his head and wait to see if there was intelligence enough there to be valued. It wasn't enough - still - for him to stop the planning, the intention he had of settling the star's volatile nature with a steady and firm hand shepherding it all, but it was enough for him to continue to hold to the promise he had made a smattering of turns ago to give them an allotment of time.

The stylus moved again and resumed taking his notes.

In time his plans would already be settled and accomplished, the foundations laid by those he steered with a shadow of touch on their limbs, a driver guiding them - or they would not and he would take his weapons up once more. But there was still the time, and in that time… he sighed and looked at the door.

[glowinggunmetal]

FFXIVWrite2024 - Day 25: Perpetuity

Eternal. It was always supposed to last.

But, the walls crumbling and gilded columns of marble falling from the sky to crash into the ground, they hadn't counted on everything going so wrong.

How can something be eternal when grief, and rage, and sorrow are more ever-lasting than the stone…?

[glowinggunmetal]

FFXIVWrite2024 - Day 19: Taken

Hands folded as Lucien sat in the small chair and stared at the - it was some manner of beast that pounded fists against the holding cell, yelled in strangled cries and begged; it wore a face that he had eaten dinner with for the past two turns but this was no longer Arturius kir Calvernus with the way it sobbed and broke down as the holding cell remained strong.

It spoke of singing. It spoke of breath-taking splendor that it needed to be beside.

Lucien stared at Calvernus' eyes and saw gold in them as he dragged breaking fingers down the containment cell walls and raged like a wild beast with barely any control or reason.

Lucien, a kir himself now, had worked with Calvernus since their joining the Sixth Legion and had heard about the man's wife and first-born. He had seen the painting that the kir carried against his heart as a ward when the engineers had begun work on the Tower of the Triad. Lucien was the assessor now, staring at Arturius with unbroken reverie.

They were being overrun, slowly, losing one or two engineers every few suns as sabotage weakened the containments and the imprisoned eikons tried to break free. Lucien stared and he watched for anything of the man who had been a reassuring mentor for the younger Garlean and the begging and pleading continued for the bells no matter how long Lucien waited. He needed to make his report, he needed to make the decision call, but he kept holding out hope…

His focus was so rapt that he missed the sound of approach and when he felt the prickle of presence enter his awareness the kir was on his feet and then snapping a startled salute to the armor-clad man who walked in - like the Legionarius themselves the engineers were fiercely loyal to Regula van Hydrus and Lucien shook the exhaustion, the shock from his form as he waited for the nod to relax his position.

"Assessment, kir Korbinius?"

Lucien hesitated and behind him the beast that had been a man screamed, begging for a goddess like he was a common animal. The scream ended in a sob as they both could hear Arturius sink to his knees, babbling about the beauty of a god he had never praised before in his short life. The moment stretched as Lucien kept his posture as still as he could manage though his shoulders sank as the engineer imprisoned continued to weep. "We could try the treatment. The medicus believes it could reduce the issue long enough."

Lucien felt the weight of the Legatus' study as he held silent after Lucien himself spoke, the air shifting as the helm moved and studied the man in the cell who slammed his whole body against the containing field. It held, the man burned and screamed, but he began to try again after rising to his feet, burned fabric not stopping him. "Your assessment, kir Korbinius?"

Of course the Legatus had noticed Lucien had avoided the answer, leaning on the fact most fell to hope as the horrors of the imprisoned Eikons became more and more apparent. His attention remained on the Legatus and his voice was lower, his tone almost apologetic. "kir Calvernus died two suns ago, sir, and there is nothing of him left to save."

van Hydrus didn't speak immediately but Lucien felt the weight of assessment and consideration. The air was rent with pleading and exaltation of beauty for a goddess imprisoned in a tower.

"See his wife notified by the end of the sun - communications have been repaired on the bridge." The judgement was swift and simple and Lucien saluted after it was declared, van Hydrus turning away from the engineer and starting to leave before he stopped. "You were with him when the breach happened, kir Korbinius."

"Yes, Legatus."

"Do you know why you were unaffected again?"

Silver eyes looked uneasily to the Allagan relay and workstation that the kir had been able to use effortlessly. "No, Legatus."

"Will you risk it again if I ask you, kir Korbinius?"

"Yes, Legatus." No hesitation from Lucien - and he knew that the third of the cells was failing, too.

"With me then. I have word we are about to receive guests bent on the containment ward." And as the Legatus moved Lucien took a moment then to pull out his pistol and put the beast to rights with a single shot to the temple before he followed on the heels of Regula van Hydrus.

[glowinggunmetal]

FFXIVWrite2024 - Day 16: Third-Rate

It was a thing known - that Luke Gravespast, blacksmith and sometimes engineer, hated Cid Garlond.

He kept his opinions fairly tight to the chest unless asked, knowing the levels of respect the Garlean had and the supporters across the star he had acquired since turning his back on Garlemald, but they were known all the same.

"Look, Luke, the latest from the Ironworks!"

And the twitch, the smile that was practiced and careful, and the man made polite noises before he could leave.

He had never met Cid Garlond - that would've been a meeting for his youth and Garlond was young compared to the older blacksmith so the start of the hatred and intense dislike was something that seemed out of place to most of his compatriots. But he had known someone else and sometimes, staring at the sky where they had once been two moons, Luke recalled the Garlond he had known and admired - the man who had made the leaps and bounds of engineering and was hailed as a hero.

Luke knew placing a visionary on the pedestal of respect was a terrible call but still…

He couldn't help but consider the living Garlond to be unworthy to the legend and genius that he had abandoned.

[glowinggunmetal]

FFXIVWrite2024 - Day 14: Telling

Truth was never in words with Lucien - words were a lie and one he used often when he wanted to distract, detract, and avoid - pretty words, with elaborate gestures, and the man felt no remorse for the fact that he could (and had) sold bridges made of dreams to desperate people. The fact they believed him was not his issue - not his fault, that they wanted a lie so badly they took what they were offered and accepted it unquestioningly.

The truth with Lucien was in what he did.

He spun pretty words as an excuse for reprehensible actions and did it well - when he wanted to be honest he skipped words.

The truth was in the extra bell away from studies as he put together a blend of tea for an expecting mother which did little but still was an honest attempt to help.

The truth was in the way he picked up a book, his teacup, and sat on the sofa near a sleeping Xaela and tucked her in with a blanket, candles and lamps casting soft light and warmth in shared quiet.

The truth was in the way he grit his teeth but placed his trust in the decisions of a brilliant engineer and fighter and put aside from of his hesitations, listening to advice and wisdom that wasn't native to him.

The truth came in the quiet support of duty and honor that he did not like, but staying there beside them no matter what form they currently walked in, knowing that they liked to see them return from hollow fighting too much to actually not make an effort to ensure their return.

The truth came in a small group he vetted new blood to thoroughly, protecting and guiding and training them while he watched and stepped back, waiting instead of acting the countless times he could have taken hold of somewhere else and begun his "work" that he looked to the future for.

It was in a thousand little things that he used his own words to tell himself it was for his plans, and his goals. But he chose them, repeatedly, time and again because they mattered more than whatever words he hid the reasons behind.

[glowinggunmetal]

Surrogate

Lucien was many things to many people.

He liked to place himself in the shadows, watching and waiting until he found where he could place himself near to the targets he picked and how to best ingratiate.

And then sometimes he did things for reasons he never bothered to consider part of his long plans for Eorzea and the star itself.

Sometimes he saw someone lonely and lost and offered them a choice in what facade they saw - and he leaned in to their decisions, picking up apprentices and youngsters who wanted a guiding hand.

[glowinggunmetal]

FFXIVWrite2024 - Day 10: Stable

The war chocobo was a heavy bred bird, large and stocky, heavy feathers, with wicked claws filed regularly to keep the tips from fraying as the bird and rider drilled battle tactics together, Weight shifted to the side - rider and bird moved like a unit, a signal and whistle low that the bird picked up and whirled around, dipping low on the front and kicking back.

The two worked together for a bell every sun when the rider could drag himself over, the stables the bird was housed in keeping the large bred bird content, giving the chocobo free choice for how it spent its time when not preparing.

Sometimes the rider was late for their workouts. Sometimes the rider was exhausted and all they did was a quarter of a bell before just a short ride. Sometimes the rider didn't make it often and stablehands worked the warbird so that it stayed engaged, happy - smart as the bird was, being useless was a problem to make it antsy.

The bird also knew words for movements, single short identifiable sounds that the rider made which the bird could use to follow instead of signals or whistles, but the rider never used the words around anyone who lived - if the words were spoken, the people around died, the bird knew. The bird was treasured, respected, and capable of battle alongside its rider, and the pair of them had fended off problems on the rider's long travels in the cold and in the woods.

Did the bird love the rider? It was comfortable, at least, but the rider was old for two leggers and the bird thought it wouldn't be long before the rider stopped coming back. It would hurt, when the rider left, but until then they were friends at least, comrades together.

[glowinggunmetal]

FFXIVWrite2024 - Day 6: Halcyon

There were memories which the sound of crystal clear bells brought that Lucien, for all his beliefs of gods or souls, never discounted. They came with scents so forgotten, so old, that the names stayed on the tip of his tongue when he woke back to his senses but slowly faded with the fleeting rays of sunlight, knowledge of what had been sunk down into the depths of wherever the memories dragged themselves out from. Briefly, sometimes, they stayed behind his eyes and it felt exhausting to feel grief and joy sharply, like there was a shattered glimpse of old friends and old lovers which were just beyond recollection.

He rallied, he ranted, he raved against Fate and Destiny, but Lucien found that there were times he stood still and needed a moment to remember that his office was dark and cold, steel and wood and layered with secrets. He had to stare, hand on the walls, and recall it was not something bright and white marble with gold inlays and welcoming stained glass and sunlight like he felt it should be.

Sometimes it felt crushing, shattering. He looked down the hallway and forgot for just a few moments and in that span of time he was waiting for a voice that could never speak again, looking for a face he couldn't describe but would know as soon as he saw it - and it hurt when he felt that loss then, recalling the end. It had ended in pain and agony - with the surety and finality of death, with a conclusion so foregone that the pain of ending had been welcomed as relief for what their efforts were buying.

His breath caught and Lucien set his glasses aside, closing eyes and leaning his head back as he struggled with remembering and forgetting.

Memory came with every slip, the world white and indistinct more than a few times when he bantered with the wizard as if it were coming deeper than his own attempt to grasp and cradle something between imperfect fingers. And the retreat into research and study had been - in some ways - his own attempt to make the world right. He needed his knowledge rooted, grounded, firmly nestled in something so that when he caught himself wishing for something dimly he could pretend it was wishing for a what-had-been he recalled consciously instead of the ache like a lost love so old he could remember the impression of a scent but not even what it had been.

[glowinggunmetal]

FFXIVWrite2024 - Day 1: Steer

Eyes ahead, firelight played off and gave shadows and warmth in the darkness; it was cozy, comforting, and quiet - the snaps, the pops, the cracks of heating wood. The air was chill without being bitter and it bit in a different way, cheeks cold and stiff and fingers moving to keep warm on reflex, used to somewhere far far colder.

Not long, now, for him to assess again.

They were a odd group but, as Lucien let his eyes close and the droning of voices and merriment faded from his ears, they were still useful, were they not?

It had been half a decade since he'd put some plans on hold, waiting for a slower progress but a more sure one. Were they still going to head the direction he wanted? Or was the conglomerate of do-gooders going to veer away from their current course, buck the yolk they'd given themselves and run ram-shod over his carefully laid plans…?

Mental piles tallied, silver eyes opened again to stare at the fire as he found unified agreement for the current course still set in his being.

[katherinehoughtoncastle47]

THE MINISTRY OF UNGENTLEMANLY WARFARE (2024) dir Guy Ritchie

[charm-in-spades]

@glowinggunmetal

[cleonxxiv]