If we haven't met yet, it's a pleasure to meet you. If not then welcome back. I hope things are going well for you.
This is primarily a Final Fantasy 14 blog. It's also my main blog and is tied to blogs Volkameria [FGO/Barely active] and WistfulWistaria [Covers everything else].
I have six Warriors of Light whose information I routinely post here alongside my writing, reblogs, and ask games. They are Asel Kha, Oscar Moreau, Iskra Rehw-marouc, Eirini Rini, Beatrix Lind, and Sana Majjar.
Feel free to reach out if you have any questions. Or if you just want to interact.
Tagged by: @serifyism
Tagging: Any who are interested. And want to but haven't done this yet.
Last Song: Don't remember. Probably something from the Alexander Raid series in FFXIV. The timing on the prebattle cut-scenes are fantastic.
Currently Watching: Nothing in particular. Just wandering through my DVD collection.
Current Obsession: Relic Weapons in FFXIV. I've been finishing up the ones I've started and tying up other such loose ends on my characters to prep them for moving on to other expansion packs.
Currently Reading: 'City Hunter' if manga counts. Should work on reading list though.
Currently working on: Again, relic weapons. I also need to finish knitting a pillow case.
Last online search: 'How to bird watch without trees'. The last of the trees were removed from my Grandfather's backyard. I want to find other ways for him to bird watch from his house.
Favorite Flower: Don't have one. Lilacs or Orange Blossoms, I guess.
The thought broke through it's mind, burning light bleeding through it's sensitive senses, a distant wailing sending a deep and primal fear through it's translucent body. It trembled slightly, causing the stagnant waters of its prison to ripple. The violating wails from the space outside were soon drowned out by a different sound—not as glaring or dangerous in it's intensity, but rhythmic in a way that felt oddly-…soothing.
The figures outside, the 'white coats' as it knew them, were scurrying about. Perhaps there truly was a predator nearby to fear? It was hard to see them, the bright, burning glow beyond it's cage being far too much for it, ebbing and flowing in it's severity—yet, eventually, it knew the white coats were all gone. Their words were harsh before it could sense them no longer.
"I don't care who he is! Someone just deal with him already!"
"He's mocking us! Playing that stupid 'music' over the speakers! Someone get that blasted intruder!"
It felt exposed. It was left alone, in it's cage. It needed help. Needed to touch… It reached out a translucent 'hand'…
Then—there was a new sound. A new voice.
"Man, you guys have really gotta up your security, those sentry bots were built like five sols ago~!"
It wasn't like the usual 'loud voice' that spoke throughout the space, without any heart or rhythm. It was-…different. New. Suddenly, a loud thud sounded from within it's chamber, the water within shifting and slowly pulling downwards. Was it time for 'tests'? That's what this usually meant. It couldn't remain like this. It needed legs. Clumsy, heavy legs, curled up beneath it as the weightlessness of its home was slowly drained away and his clear prison door was opened to the dry air.
Everything was louder now, but this-… 'music'? It didn't dislike it. It definitely preferred it over the wailing. The burning lights cooled, replaced by a more familiar, more welcome color. Where had it seen it before…? Now, it was exposed to the outside, the black box around its prison, where the white coats looked at it and spoke among themselves—and in the back of that space, a knocking rang out. Once, twice, three times and a panel broke loose. Legs dangled down from the top of the space, a dark figure gripping onto the edge of the break it had made before dropping down and rolling forward across the floor.
That one-…not a white coat? The strange, dark abnormality looked over at the imprisoned being. This thing-…it has purple scales? No-…not scales. Purple! That's it-..the color. It's face is purple. It made the purple?
"Huh-? What the f-…? Well, I did not expect this-" The dark and purple thing cocked its head. That voice. It was on the Loud Voice before. "That must have been what the 'containment protocol' was- Well, good thing I deactivated it." He approached, crossing the space—weaving between the tables of the white coats—climbing up the base of its clear prison and finally leaning in past the open door, reaching out with his hand. The white coats never got this close… This was different. This was new.
"C'mon! Let's get moving, not much time!" It looked up at the New. The Purple. Curious eyes practically glowed up at him, the imprisoned slowly tilting it's head. It reached out with its 'hand'. Its hand. It fit rather comfortably in his.
"Can you stand?" That fun voice came from behind the purple face. It nodded slowly.
[🧠 : What is your OC’s most mentally attractive attribute?] For the ask game, please.
Humble has a few positive mental traits, which certainly could be considered attractive - although equally some might find them off-putting.
He is very straightforward and honest and completely lacking in guile - so if you prefer to avoid mind games and second guessing a partner, then that could be quite an attractive feature. He is gentle and kind (at least outside of combat) and pretty selfless, putting other's needs before his own. He has a strong sense of duty and loyalty and is very protective of those close to him.
Although he is far from academic, he is curious about the world and always shows an interest in other people. And, whilst very powerful and capable in a number of areas, he is invariably modest and respectful.
So if you're primarily attracted to confidence, erudition and scintillating wit, then sadly Humble would almost certainly fail to tickle your intellectual erogenous zones. But if someone happened to have a weakness for a shy, sincere - and slightly socially clumsy - soul, who is kind and loyal, then Humble would be very attractive indeed...
anjyu was not doing well after the attack on the reach. but it was a different sort of 'unwell' than usual.
he met zenos in the flesh for the first time, and was thoroughly beaten down by him. he was struck by how odd zenos seemed to him, and yet, at the same time, he couldn't get a read on him, not really.
anjyu didn't feel like himself afterword. he wasn't sure who 'anjyu' was, or what he was meant to be.
he takes up a new creed as a dancer, for battle now, rather than show. it's funny, rallying the spirits of others, when his are running so low, so tired, so gray. but the movement is freeing and feels good, after the extensive rest he took after baelsar's wall was claimed.
by the time the scions are leaving for doma, he's spent quite a while not thinking as much about his makeup or personal care, instead masking it with hasty motions--if you can't truly focus on him, get a grasp on him, you can't see him, can you? not really.
his hair has grown to his shoulders. tataru points it out and it's the first time anjyu realizes it. he can't remember the last time his hair was long. of course he doesn't.
if he isn't feeling like himself, there's no reason to look like 'himself'.
traveling abroad in hingashi and othard, in what secrecy they can afford, anjyu opts for veils, hoods, headdresses. he's going to stand out no matter where he goes, on account of being viera, and having the tastes that he does--but he can at least try and look like a mere traveler or performer.
he can at least try to bundle up, and hide.
and then, the far east is surprisingly kind to him.
he makes new friends and companions. he takes in the sights. he tries new things. he smiles. he sometimes chuckles. he helps many people, and they help him. he dabbles in new hobbies and interests. tragedy doesn't seem as often, as familiar. it's odd. he finds a feeling of home away from home--when he doesn't truly know what is his 'home' to begin with.
eorzea is... so far away. so strangely long ago. this time, in this case, he feels parts of things slipping away... and yet he isn't as worried, for whatever reason. he is present, but he also isn't.
there are things that sometimes hurt, and those are the things that ground him, pin that slippery recollection back into place.
going into the steppe, he finds some version of himself again--the colours, the jewelry, the makeup, the stories and the songs. but he is called things, he earns new titles--and more than ever, none seem to fit right at all. is that him? is that him they're talking about, referring to?
it's time to retake doma castle. hoping for some degree of subtlety, anjyu dons a face veil, because it fits his idea of what he should be wearing for this operation--but also, subconsciously, on some level, he is trying to put some level of 'separation' between himself and this mission, this stress, this potential unrecoverable failure should it go awry; a kind of armour, comfort, and hiding spot all
during the ensuring battles, it slides off.
anjyu, who normally values his garb and adornments and his comfort--he chooses not to pick it up. he leaves it behind inside doma castle, knowing the castle may very well fall apart and he would never recover this part of his outfit. he confronts grynewaht and yotsuyu without his planned 'shield', and he watches gosetsu sacrifice himself with no way to hide his shock and his sorrow.
and immediately after--there is no time to grieve, not really. because this was a victory. sure, that tragedy is freshly seared into his mind, but, aa nation is saved. there is a populace to address. he has to face them, alongside hien, yugiri, everyone.
but he chose not to pick up his mask, and instead kept going. that one decision, so minor, and some part of him feels like he doomed himself with it--but at the same time, it's like a piece of him, some of his clothing, normally so precious, has been laid to rest with a dear friend, and so, he can't regret it. he can't. he can't.
so now he needs a new kind of mask, to pair with the other coverings he's taken to draping over his head. he doesn't want to stop to get a new one while still in the east and he frankly doesn't have the time. so, to push through his pain, to deal with it without actually dealing with it, he has to use what he has. and all he has is his face.
anjyu is suddenly far more expressive and ranged than he has ever been, and he is smiling, and it is forced and fake and numb.
when the scions return to eorzea finally, his hair is touching his back, and anjyu's eyes are bright and hollow. he doesn't remember why he's smiling to people. maybe it's a habit he picked up on the ship home. oh--he hasn't chosen a new outfit since doma castle. merely kept and used the same battle-worn attire all this while. he is forgetting 'himself'.
he aids in the fringes and the peaks with much reaction, much emotion. it's awkward and feels unusual, even if strangers can't place why. he's so glad to be busy. he doesn't need to think of much of anything. just work. just fight. just keep going. keep going. what for? right, because he has to. it's his job. right? that's who he is. that's 'anjyu', the warrior of light.
the people speak of "home". anjyu's home is... with the people he most cherishes, isn't it? that's his 'place', and his 'people'. but he gets the feeling his is something different than what they mean. is he doing this wrong? when he goes 'home', where exactly is he meant to go? the room that is his? the inn he sleeps in most often? his friends' houses?
he sheds tears when conrad passes on. when was the last time he actually, truly cried? is that like him? of course he's sad, and has been sad, and knows sorrow. but is he somebody that cries? does that mean he's broken somehow? surely he's cried, sobbed before. hasn't everyone?
and lyse tells him, no. he isn't. he is still anjyu, and he is her friend. she, who is like a sister to him, tells him he inspires her. no matter how he feels, she says he brings out the good in others.
and she inspires him in turn. he sees her resolve, herself as herself, deciding who she is and who she is going to be, in her homeland's, her family's clothes. he is inspired by cirina's blessing, to walk in crimson, to follow where there is life.
he readies for the lochs in crimson of his own, in proper armour--just enough, for his combat style--in his finest tools and weapons and jewelry and fabrics. he does his makeup. he looks in the mirror. he can't tell if he looks older or younger. just different. his hair isn't as curly when it's grown out. he only knows himself with curly hair.
he faces zenos. it is intense. it has no reason not to be, as all their encounters have been before.
he chases him down. he has no reason not to. this is what he has to do.
and then it's only the two of them.
zenos talks. he talks very much. and it is an oddly comforting thing, to not have to engage or respond. to just listen. it's like zenos knows this. like he's that type of person, himself.
who is zenos?
zenos explains himself. he lays his thoughts and feelings bare, and it is plain that some of them are things he is experiencing for the very first time. he is clear, and there is logic to the things he says. it does make sense. it is not impossible to comprehend. he makes assumptions, yes--but to him, they are observations. anjyu sees where he is coming from. it makes sense. zenos is not insane--few people truly are, anjyu believes. (that's a belief he has? he didn't recall.) there may be something wrong with zenos, but to write him off as a madman or even an animal is not logical.
is anjyu really only thinking of their engagement--their battles? that's just what he's supposed to do. no, when he start following that kind of path? has he been taking orders? from who? not himself, right? what exactly is he following? anjyu may not have any bloodlust or thirst for violence, but--why does it always come back to combat? to needing to put someone down?
zenos speaks of purpose, and he asks a response of anjyu. does he accept him as a friend, and a confidant?
anjyu can accept him. he can understand him. he can... identify with him, it seems. he does not judge zenos, not really.
but he cannot accept friendship from this man. this is too incompatible a request.
zenos is so happy to have been defeated. he is joyous. he has found something he never had, and it is obvious. he has expressed himself. he has felt.
he bids anjyu farewell.
anjyu feels so horribly seen.
when he steps outside of ala mhigo, the people rush to greet "anjyu", the "warrior of light". anjyu is tired, and he is quiet.
Reference pictures of Isa'to post Titan outfit for A Realm Reborn. Posting this for reasons. One of which being his recent getting through the patches and into Ishgard.
this has been an ass month already. somebody come tell me about their favorite minor NPC in XIV, who do you wanna grab and squeeze and let your WoL drag em around like a squeaky toy? define minor here however you wish, I mostly just mean non-reoccurring scion lol
Been in a Hildibrand mood recently so I’ll start with him.
I wish the Bard characters interacted with the Archer characters in a similar to how Ninja works. It would make Guydelot more bearable if I had someone like Leih there too. Or more Jehantel.
Also fond of Fufucha and Sisipu. Would love to travel with them.
Master Matoya is also always a delight though I would neither grab nor squeeze for the safety of my own life.
Beatrix would probably love to squeeze poor Mikoto like a teddy bear. Or possibly Lyse. Or possibly both.
And we could always use more Sky Pirates!
I’m probably forgetting someone but these are who I have for now.
this has been an ass month already. somebody come tell me about their favorite minor NPC in XIV, who do you wanna grab and squeeze and let your WoL drag em around like a squeaky toy? define minor here however you wish, I mostly just mean non-reoccurring scion lol
Been in a Hildibrand mood recently so I’ll start with him.
I wish the Bard characters interacted with the Archer characters in a similar to how Ninja works. It would make Guydelot more bearable if I had someone like Leih there too. Or more Jehantel.
Also fond of Fufucha and Sisipu. Would love to travel with them.
Master Matoya is also always a delight though I would neither grab nor squeeze for the safety of my own life.
Beatrix would probably love to squeeze poor Mikoto like a teddy bear. Or possibly Lyse. Or possibly both.
And we could always use more Sky Pirates!
I’m probably forgetting someone but these are who I have for now.
man. i'm sorry to be this but i am having an Atrocious day mentally so if anyone has like. funny horse pictures. wols being pretty. idfc. anything. pls.
Fell in love with Tataru all over again while playing the ARR patches. She was a bright spot in those dark days and now she can be a bright spot for you.
[😍 : What does your OC find irresistible in others?], please. Dealer’s choice for which OC.
For Minthe, it's passion in a subject. Growing up with Hades, it was his passion for magic, for Ariadne it was her passion for fungus, and for Daedalus it was his passion in his mechanical work.
I know it's unlikely at this current point in time, but if anyone needs a black mage for their static (savage or ultimate, not picky) im available...my static blew up on my birthday last year and I really miss raiding... I've cleared ucob, and every savage raid from shadowbringers and endwalker on content, also finished the first savage raid tier of dawntrail (static blew up in the middle of sugar riot prog)
Im an omnicrafter/gatherer with pentamelds, so you don't need to get me any gear for raid prep, if that helps
