Wyn's RP Repository @lookbluesoup-rp - Tumblr Blog

#LMFAO i love these #She shows up with a carton of rum #if she found out about the second letter she'd probably harass him for not inviting her out to set the boat on fire #fun date idea #lyrha #khanah'to

💌 for a letter my muse would write to yours.

📫 for a letter my muse would write about yours to a third party.

Khan about Lyrha

💌 for a letter my muse would write to yours.

Hey Lyrha.

I know this is a weird thing to write a letter about, but hey, I'm gonna be stuck in Costa del Sol for like two sennights. I can't remember what label of rum it is you said went really well with red meat, but if you could get back to me with that, it'd make my little forced vacation even better.

Or you could, you know. Just show up here. I'm not wearing a shirt and probably won't for at least eight more days.

Just sayin'.

-K

📫 for a letter my muse would write about yours to a third party.

To Whom It May Concern:

I know the business you run. I know what you do.

I also know why you might be interested in her.

Allow me to assist you in making the most sound financial and entrepreneurial choices here:

Fucking don't.

She's already been through enough. She doesn't need it again, and you are not going to provide that misery for her.

Raise the anchor on your little pleasure barge and sail elsewhere.

You have three nights to be out of town, or I will sink your boat.

Fuck around and find out.

The ragged cry of an arbor buzzard high in the canopy turned Nahte's ear. Ten heartbeats later, another followed, fifteen yalms further to his left. Both birds had spotted their quarry.

Hidden in thick brush, with his back pressed against the great trunk of a mahogany tree, Nahte inhaled quietly. Counted the slow beats beneath his chest. Channeled his aether. Then jumped - twenty yalms up in a near straight shot, to perch high in the branches. Hopefully unseen.

One of his birds cried out again.

Springing to the adjacent tree, Nahte followed the sound, velvety black ears on swivels and blue eyes fixed on the next bough. He landed silently, the way only a Miqo'te born to a life hunting in the treetops could.

Beneath them, the slightest rustle in the undergrowth betrayed their quarry: a man-eating black coerl. Despite its size, it had grown sly enough to evade the local town's posse and subsequent patrols of Yellow Jackets. Reports claimed it would strike like a voidsent shadow, take its prey and vanish deep in the jungles of Vylbrand, where men could not follow.

They'd grown so desperate as to enlist the aid of The Hunt, and though Nahte had no real need of a bounty, he knew his trade well enough to feel a sense of responsibility about the situation.

So here he was. No moment thus far had been easy, but the trickiest step would be following it to a place of vulnerability. In such dense jungle, Nahte didn't have line of sight long enough to cast Sleep on the beast.

If he failed and it realized it was being stalked, he'd lose his best chance at taking it by surprise. If it fled, he lost the advantage. If it attacked... only his birds were here to help him. The Moonkeeper had opted to trek out alone in favor of stealth.

He was so intent on following his prey and keeping his quiet, it was almost too late before Nahte realized he wasn't the only one out here...

Eisha knew the beast would not resist the lure of a freshly killed antelope, she had timed the kill just right so it would still be warm enough to seem enticing.

She’d just have to wait for it to pounce, grow distracted by the fresh meat, and she could make her next move. The foliage of the jungle was high enough she could remain poised to strike, just one dash forward and her scythe would make contact, a whirling blade that would make quick work of the coeurl.

It steps into the clearing, eyeing the waiting meat. Eisha holds her breath, waiting for the right moment, when the rustling of birds wings overhead snags her attention. She looks over to her left, following the bird as it lands on the upper branch next to…. another Miqo’te?

She supposes the Hunt sent out more than one person to slay the beast, just to be sure the job would be completed. Too bad it would be her kill, and her reward in the end. She needed the gil if she wanted to survive, growing sick of scraping by.

She darts forward, scythe extended and only a few fulms away from victory. A silent fury, she heaves the weapon around to strike when the coeurl senses her — and nimbly crouches lower to the ground, narrowly avoiding her blade and hissing as it swipes at her and knocks her weapon out of her hand.

Shit shit shit. Don’t flee. Not yet.

briar-ffxiv-deactivated20230713

Ears flattening back against his skull, Nahte's eyes widened in alarm as the scene unfolded.

Most beasts would have fallen to the ambush, so swift did she strike. This one had clearly earned its bounty. Now it was angry.

The heavy rumble of it's growl could be felt as much as heard, and Nahte could only be glad its new 'prey' had the sense not to turn her back immediately to the predatory cat.

Sparks gathered along the coerl's inky whiskers, and the air hummed with aether.

Shit.

This far up, he'd never reach her in time.

He lunged anyway, lance bared. There was no other choice.

A harsh, hiss-like whistle spilled from Nahte's lips as he broke cover, Huntspeak, and his second bird perched just above the unfolding scene dove like a thunderbolt.

Ilm-long talons buzzed the coerl's forehead before swooping up again to avoid a counterswipe, though Nahte could not see whether they'd drawn blood. It got the cat's attention, though, and bought both miqo'te time to move.

“please remain calm”

Of all the places Lyrha could have been unmasked, the Shroud certainly wouldn't have been her bet. And yet, she'd walked past the Wailer patrol - well, not nonchalantly, you didn't grow up terrorizing the seas and just ignore armed guards - but without any real sense of dread.

Not five paces later the brunette Elezen leading them had yelled, "Wait. You there--!"

Words were exchanged. Denials made. Scoffed at.

And well, here she was. Fleeing blind through the woods.

It would have been easier to kill them. They weren't even in a town. No reinforcements to call. No witnesses. But Lyrha didn't do that sort of thing anymore.

Wailers knew the forest like she knew the seas, and evasion quickly became a mad scramble through the bracken.

She found a covered break in thick undergrowth by chance or providence, the reason hardly mattered. It was obscure enough she hoped her entry would go unnoticed by those in pursuit. At least long enough for her to be long gone.

What had looked to Lyrha's untrained eyes like a deer trail, though, opened to a homey little house and a field full of sheep. It was so idyllic it stopped her in her tracks for a dangerous second to blink at.

Then, seeing no immediate, obvious sign of a farmer, she decided hiding here to catch her breath might be a better option. Maybe borrow that chocobo in the stable, there. Steal a pie off the window. Fleeing the law worked up an appetite, after all.

Mind made up, Lyrha darted down the path, cleared the ledge of the stable, and ducked down out of sight in one of the currently unoccupied stalls. It had lower-set walls than the bird's. Probably for the sheep. She waved her hands at the chocobo, trying to shoo its interest away quietly.

And then she heard a growl. Her ear flicked slowly back, and she turned her head with equal caution until she could see a dog - blotchy black and grey - staring at her from over the side of the stable. Shit.

"Please uh, stay calm, boy...?"

Dogs and Miqo'te weren't exactly known for being the best of friends...

Said dog was not exactly particularly intimidating, despite his best efforts. With the lanky build and oversized paws of the half-grown, he couldn't have weighed more than much more than twenty ponze. His patchy coat stood on end in an effort to look bigger and more fierce, but instead, the pup ended up looking more like a muddy sheep with his kinky waves of black, gray, white, and tan. Despite looking a bit ridiculous, he glared with fierce eyes and curled his lips back to give a loud bark.

A very squeaky, cracking bark between puppy and grown dog that was not near as impressive as he was probably hoping. At least judging by the fact the patchy farm-protector looked a little startled by his own noise. Still, he didn't let that stop him and rapidly fired off several more barks, although he got no nearer to the hiding Miqo'te.

Beside her, the aged chocobo with a slight limp ruffled his crest, blinking and then gave his own loud 'kweh!', apparently deciding to help warn the homestead's owner of the visitor. He ruffled stubby wings a few times, bobbing his head up and down in excitement as the pup continued to bark.

At least until a short, sharp whistle sounded, almost able to be mistaken for a sparrow. Still, it had an effect and the dog stopped, one pricked ear and one flopped lifting.

"Jack," called a soft voice, sounding mildly scolding. "You're not chasing the chickens again are...you..."

A willowy half-Elezen with a messy mane of strawberry blond stepped around the corner, heading for the dog. His naturally pale skin was heavily freckled, just slightly tanned by the sun. He was barefoot, dressed in worn, somewhat dirty jeans and a homespun shirt rolled to his elbows. There was a yew staff in his hand, but he wasn't holding it like a weapon. Big green eyes widened in surprise as he caught sight of Lyrha, freezing in surprise.

At the moment, the patchy little farm dog gave a quick bark of 'see?!', giving the Miqo'te a warning look that was probably about as scary as one of the sheep doing it.

Nevertheless, the redhead gave a little chirp with his tongue and tapped a hand against his leg. "Jack. Come. Good boy," he praised when the canine came to sit beside him, still eyeballing Lyrha. The half-Elezen leaned down to scratch his ears in praise, although his gaze stayed on his unexpected visitor. After a long moment, he cleared his throat. "Um...h-hello?"

@lookbluesoup-rp

#lyrha x briar #IM SORRY SHES A MENACE

"Hush! No! Shush! Shshshshsh!" Lyrha urged the animals about as convincingly as the dog, but by the time the claimed her feet to run, because this was not going to work - a voice answered.

Too close.

Ears flat back, she took in the sight of the... farmer? His age was difficult to gauge, mixed blood muddying the water. But he had the bearing of a grower. And the dog listened to him. Which meant it would probably chase her if he told it to, too.

She must look a sight, sitting in the straw, decked in crimson velvet and grass stains, brambles tangled in her fur.

Cornered by a little dog.

He probably didn't know about Red Mages, but even in the farthest reaches of Gridania she imagined folks recognized swords - and that she had strapped to her hip. He might take her for a mercenary, or a cautious traveler. Hopefully not for a thief.

"I was... passin' through, when your little mongrel tried to take a piece outta me." She lied. Sort of. She hadn't intended to stay long.

@briar-ffxiv

The ragged cry of an arbor buzzard high in the canopy turned Nahte's ear. Ten heartbeats later, another followed, fifteen yalms further to his left. Both birds had spotted their quarry.

Hidden in thick brush, with his back pressed against the great trunk of a mahogany tree, Nahte inhaled quietly. Counted the slow beats beneath his chest. Channeled his aether. Then jumped - twenty yalms up in a near straight shot, to perch high in the branches. Hopefully unseen.

One of his birds cried out again.

Springing to the adjacent tree, Nahte followed the sound, velvety black ears on swivels and blue eyes fixed on the next bough. He landed silently, the way only a Miqo'te born to a life hunting in the treetops could.

Beneath them, the slightest rustle in the undergrowth betrayed their quarry: a man-eating black coerl. Despite its size, it had grown sly enough to evade the local town's posse and subsequent patrols of Yellow Jackets. Reports claimed it would strike like a voidsent shadow, take its prey and vanish deep in the jungles of Vylbrand, where men could not follow.

They'd grown so desperate as to enlist the aid of The Hunt, and though Nahte had no real need of a bounty, he knew his trade well enough to feel a sense of responsibility about the situation.

So here he was. No moment thus far had been easy, but the trickiest step would be following it to a place of vulnerability. In such dense jungle, Nahte didn't have line of sight long enough to cast Sleep on the beast.

If he failed and it realized it was being stalked, he'd lose his best chance at taking it by surprise. If it fled, he lost the advantage. If it attacked... only his birds were here to help him. The Moonkeeper had opted to trek out alone in favor of stealth.

He was so intent on following his prey and keeping his quiet, it was almost too late before Nahte realized he wasn't the only one out here...

Eisha knew the beast would not resist the lure of a freshly killed antelope, she had timed the kill just right so it would still be warm enough to seem enticing.

She’d just have to wait for it to pounce, grow distracted by the fresh meat, and she could make her next move. The foliage of the jungle was high enough she could remain poised to strike, just one dash forward and her scythe would make contact, a whirling blade that would make quick work of the coeurl.

It steps into the clearing, eyeing the waiting meat. Eisha holds her breath, waiting for the right moment, when the rustling of birds wings overhead snags her attention. She looks over to her left, following the bird as it lands on the upper branch next to…. another Miqo’te?

She supposes the Hunt sent out more than one person to slay the beast, just to be sure the job would be completed. Too bad it would be her kill, and her reward in the end. She needed the gil if she wanted to survive, growing sick of scraping by.

She darts forward, scythe extended and only a few fulms away from victory. A silent fury, she heaves the weapon around to strike when the coeurl senses her — and nimbly crouches lower to the ground, narrowly avoiding her blade and hissing as it swipes at her and knocks her weapon out of her hand.

Shit shit shit. Don’t flee. Not yet.

#thanks so much for your patience!#sorry this one took so long #nahte & eisha

Ears flattening back against his skull, Nahte's eyes widened in alarm as the scene unfolded.

Most beasts would have fallen to the ambush, so swift did she strike. This one had clearly earned its bounty. Now it was angry.

The heavy rumble of it's growl could be felt as much as heard, and Nahte could only be glad its new 'prey' had the sense not to turn her back immediately to the predatory cat.

Sparks gathered along the coerl's inky whiskers, and the air hummed with aether.

Shit.

This far up, he'd never reach her in time.

He lunged anyway, lance bared. There was no other choice.

A harsh, hiss-like whistle spilled from Nahte's lips as he broke cover, Huntspeak, and his second bird perched just above the unfolding scene dove like a thunderbolt.

Ilm-long talons buzzed the coerl's forehead before swooping up again to avoid a counterswipe, though Nahte could not see whether they'd drawn blood. It got the cat's attention, though, and bought both miqo'te time to move.

The ragged cry of an arbor buzzard high in the canopy turned Nahte's ear. Ten heartbeats later, another followed, fifteen yalms further to his left. Both birds had spotted their quarry.

Hidden in thick brush, with his back pressed against the great trunk of a mahogany tree, Nahte inhaled quietly. Counted the slow beats beneath his chest. Channeled his aether. Then jumped - twenty yalms up in a near straight shot, to perch high in the branches. Hopefully unseen.

One of his birds cried out again.

Springing to the adjacent tree, Nahte followed the sound, velvety black ears on swivels and blue eyes fixed on the next bough. He landed silently, the way only a Miqo'te born to a life hunting in the treetops could.

Beneath them, the slightest rustle in the undergrowth betrayed their quarry: a man-eating black coerl. Despite its size, it had grown sly enough to evade the local town's posse and subsequent patrols of Yellow Jackets. Reports claimed it would strike like a voidsent shadow, take its prey and vanish deep in the jungles of Vylbrand, where men could not follow.

They'd grown so desperate as to enlist the aid of The Hunt, and though Nahte had no real need of a bounty, he knew his trade well enough to feel a sense of responsibility about the situation.

So here he was. No moment thus far had been easy, but the trickiest step would be following it to a place of vulnerability. In such dense jungle, Nahte didn't have line of sight long enough to cast Sleep on the beast.

If he failed and it realized it was being stalked, he'd lose his best chance at taking it by surprise. If it fled, he lost the advantage. If it attacked... only his birds were here to help him. The Moonkeeper had opted to trek out alone in favor of stealth.

He was so intent on following his prey and keeping his quiet, it was almost too late before Nahte realized he wasn't the only one out here...

Eisha knew the beast would not resist the lure of a freshly killed antelope, she had timed the kill just right so it would still be warm enough to seem enticing.

She’d just have to wait for it to pounce, grow distracted by the fresh meat, and she could make her next move. The foliage of the jungle was high enough she could remain poised to strike, just one dash forward and her scythe would make contact, a whirling blade that would make quick work of the coeurl.

It steps into the clearing, eyeing the waiting meat. Eisha holds her breath, waiting for the right moment, when the rustling of birds wings overhead snags her attention. She looks over to her left, following the bird as it lands on the upper branch next to…. another Miqo’te?

She supposes the Hunt sent out more than one person to slay the beast, just to be sure the job would be completed. Too bad it would be her kill, and her reward in the end. She needed the gil if she wanted to survive, growing sick of scraping by.

She darts forward, scythe extended and only a few fulms away from victory. A silent fury, she heaves the weapon around to strike when the coeurl senses her — and nimbly crouches lower to the ground, narrowly avoiding her blade and hissing as it swipes at her and knocks her weapon out of her hand.

Shit shit shit. Don’t flee. Not yet.

Ears flattening back against his skull, Nahte's eyes widened in alarm as the scene unfolded.

Most beasts would have fallen to the ambush, so swift did she strike. This one had clearly earned its bounty. Now it was angry.

The heavy rumble of it's growl could be felt as much as heard, and Nahte could only be glad its new 'prey' had the sense not to turn her back immediately to the predatory cat.

Sparks gathered along the coerl's inky whiskers, and the air hummed with aether.

Shit.

This far up, he'd never reach her in time.

He lunged anyway, lance bared. There was no other choice.

A harsh, hiss-like whistle spilled from Nahte's lips as he broke cover, Huntspeak, and his second bird perched just above the unfolding scene dove like a thunderbolt.

Ilm-long talons buzzed the coerl's forehead before swooping up again to avoid a counterswipe, though Nahte could not see whether they'd drawn blood. It got the cat's attention, though, and bought both miqo'te time to move.

Thread with @lookbluesoup-rp, continued from this post.

Were it any other person and any other way, Khanah'to might have been upset that he was so abruptly joined at his table, but there was something about the way that I'lyrha invited herself that had him... charmed. Maybe it was that... hair and tail that made him think of a calico couerl. Maybe it was her eyes. Maybe it was the way she carried herself that reminded him of, well. Himself. Except a little more dressed up and with curves.

Actually, yeah. That was it. Khanah'to did have a type, and a confident, brazen, hedonist of a woman who had a sword on her hip and carried herself like she knew how to use it seemed like a potentially good night. The bawdy joke about him dating his flask was a nice touch, as well.

Eh, what's the harm. I got nothin' to lose.

"Well, see. I ain't so fortunate as to get dates 'round this time of year, so. 'm on a date with myself an' I'm apparently not cheap." He grinned up to her, and then paused, blushing. "I'd, like. Wink, but y'know. Eyepatch." His free hand came up to tap a finger against his cheek, just below where said patch was.

"That said, y'look like you got stories to trade, and you also look like you're gonna be a far better drinkin' partner than the train o' thought I was already spiraling down, so. Lemme get the round after this wine an' I'll be delighted t'have th'pleasure of your company. Name's Khanah'to." He paused. "Khan's fine, Khanah isn't. No offense, but most Seekers don't follow Keeper naming all the time, an' it'll really interrupt my mojo if you call me my mom's name, 'sall."

Since Khan was so cruelly denied the opportunity himself, Lyrha winked for him. Her grin widened, enough to show the gold of her one false tooth. "I'll do me best to imagine it. The picture's quite flatterin'."

Leaning back in her chair, she took the measure of him. She'd been watching for a spell already, of course, but letting him see it was part of the game. And now he could look at her. Besides, this close she could make out the details a little better.

There was a weight on his shoulders and a keenness to his eye. Probably broken-hearted. Someone else's loss, tonight.

"Name's I'lyrha. Always happy t'make a good bargain. Stories I've aplenty." She took a sip. Licked her lip, just along the edge. "Buy me the next round or three, an' I'll call you whatever ye want, Khan."

Khanah'to paused at that last little comment, and there was a hand to his almost-bare chest in a mock shock gesture, looking deeply thoughtful. "Why, I'lyrha, that's so potentially scandalous that--" and here his demeanor changed from faux pearl-clutching to a wry smirk, without skipping a beat-- "I can't possibly refuse. What are you drinking? Maybe it's something different than I've been drownin' m'self in an' a change might be refreshing."

He'd flag down a waitress, and wait for Lyrha's order before continuing to speak.

"So how is it you're here all by your lonesome? Did you just show up? One would think a lass in such striking tones of red with a confident gait an' a personality would already be charming someone... or three.. into drinks. Or did Nymeia send ya here personally to test my reactions? She's been havin' an awful lot o' fun with me as of late, lemme tell you."

#wyn gabs #some of my characters are flirtatious and open to ships #but i as the writer am 100% happy with friends rivals enemies and other platonic stuff #im here for interesting interactions of all kinds - not just ships

"I knew I sensed a kindred spirit." She smirked, downing the rest of her glass in one go and then requesting of the waitress a blisteringly cheap ale. "Meant to keep you afloat, m'afraid, but if y'ask me there's something nice in bein' bouyed by yer own whims."

And this fellow was certainly an exciting whim.

Tailtip twitching, she leaned an elbow on the table at his question. "I can afford t'be picky. An' frankly, I'm a fan of the eyepatch." She tapped just below her own eye, "Makes ye stand out."

Lyrha scoffed, "Mayhap she did. Sounds like you could do with an evenin' of makin' yer own fate, though. I'd just as soon leave the gods out'v it."

#lyrha x khanah'to

ofmusingsxandmayhem-a

Ok, I’m not a big fan of these kinds of posts, but lately, I’m becoming more and more disheartened so I need to know if you’re out there.

Please reblog this post if you are willing to write with ‘un-shippable’ muses.

I’m talking about those muses who are perhaps elderly, who are married/taken and not liable to affairs, muses who are asexual/aromantic, or even just muses whose muns don’t really want to ship.

While I’m always happy that anyone would want to write with me, sadly, over time I have realised that my older/married/ace muses are very rarely (virtually never) requested. So please share this on your blog so that people know they can throw their muses at you who are not going to wind up in ships or with smut threads.

Thread with @lookbluesoup-rp, continued from this post.

Were it any other person and any other way, Khanah'to might have been upset that he was so abruptly joined at his table, but there was something about the way that I'lyrha invited herself that had him... charmed. Maybe it was that... hair and tail that made him think of a calico couerl. Maybe it was her eyes. Maybe it was the way she carried herself that reminded him of, well. Himself. Except a little more dressed up and with curves.

Actually, yeah. That was it. Khanah'to did have a type, and a confident, brazen, hedonist of a woman who had a sword on her hip and carried herself like she knew how to use it seemed like a potentially good night. The bawdy joke about him dating his flask was a nice touch, as well.

Eh, what's the harm. I got nothin' to lose.

"Well, see. I ain't so fortunate as to get dates 'round this time of year, so. 'm on a date with myself an' I'm apparently not cheap." He grinned up to her, and then paused, blushing. "I'd, like. Wink, but y'know. Eyepatch." His free hand came up to tap a finger against his cheek, just below where said patch was.

"That said, y'look like you got stories to trade, and you also look like you're gonna be a far better drinkin' partner than the train o' thought I was already spiraling down, so. Lemme get the round after this wine an' I'll be delighted t'have th'pleasure of your company. Name's Khanah'to." He paused. "Khan's fine, Khanah isn't. No offense, but most Seekers don't follow Keeper naming all the time, an' it'll really interrupt my mojo if you call me my mom's name, 'sall."

Since Khan was so cruelly denied the opportunity himself, Lyrha winked for him. Her grin widened, enough to show the gold of her one false tooth. "I'll do me best to imagine it. The picture's quite flatterin'."

Leaning back in her chair, she took the measure of him. She'd been watching for a spell already, of course, but letting him see it was part of the game. And now he could look at her. Besides, this close she could make out the details a little better.

There was a weight on his shoulders and a keenness to his eye. Probably broken-hearted. Someone else's loss, tonight.

"Name's I'lyrha. Always happy t'make a good bargain. Stories I've aplenty." She took a sip. Licked her lip, just along the edge. "Buy me the next round or three, an' I'll call you whatever ye want, Khan."

#lyrha x khanah'to

The ragged cry of an arbor buzzard high in the canopy turned Nahte's ear. Ten heartbeats later, another followed, fifteen yalms further to his left. Both birds had spotted their quarry.

Hidden in thick brush, with his back pressed against the great trunk of a mahogany tree, Nahte inhaled quietly. Counted the slow beats beneath his chest. Channeled his aether. Then jumped - twenty yalms up in a near straight shot, to perch high in the branches. Hopefully unseen.

One of his birds cried out again.

Springing to the adjacent tree, Nahte followed the sound, velvety black ears on swivels and blue eyes fixed on the next bough. He landed silently, the way only a Miqo'te born to a life hunting in the treetops could.

Beneath them, the slightest rustle in the undergrowth betrayed their quarry: a man-eating black coerl. Despite its size, it had grown sly enough to evade the local town's posse and subsequent patrols of Yellow Jackets. Reports claimed it would strike like a voidsent shadow, take its prey and vanish deep in the jungles of Vylbrand, where men could not follow.

They'd grown so desperate as to enlist the aid of The Hunt, and though Nahte had no real need of a bounty, he knew his trade well enough to feel a sense of responsibility about the situation.

So here he was. No moment thus far had been easy, but the trickiest step would be following it to a place of vulnerability. In such dense jungle, Nahte didn't have line of sight long enough to cast Sleep on the beast.

If he failed and it realized it was being stalked, he'd lose his best chance at taking it by surprise. If it fled, he lost the advantage. If it attacked... only his birds were here to help him. The Moonkeeper had opted to trek out alone in favor of stealth.

He was so intent on following his prey and keeping his quiet, it was almost too late before Nahte realized he wasn't the only one out here...

Eisha knew the beast would not resist the lure of a freshly killed antelope, she had timed the kill just right so it would still be warm enough to seem enticing.

She’d just have to wait for it to pounce, grow distracted by the fresh meat, and she could make her next move. The foliage of the jungle was high enough she could remain poised to strike, just one dash forward and her scythe would make contact, a whirling blade that would make quick work of the coeurl.

It steps into the clearing, eyeing the waiting meat. Eisha holds her breath, waiting for the right moment, when the rustling of birds wings overhead snags her attention. She looks over to her left, following the bird as it lands on the upper branch next to…. another Miqo’te?

She supposes the Hunt sent out more than one person to slay the beast, just to be sure the job would be completed. Too bad it would be her kill, and her reward in the end. She needed the gil if she wanted to survive, growing sick of scraping by.

She darts forward, scythe extended and only a few fulms away from victory. A silent fury, she heaves the weapon around to strike when the coeurl senses her — and nimbly crouches lower to the ground, narrowly avoiding her blade and hissing as it swipes at her and knocks her weapon out of her hand.

Shit shit shit. Don’t flee. Not yet.

#these two are TERRORS it's great #i would love to see this happen hahahah #nsftumblr #lyrha x khanah'to

Ears flattening back against his skull, Nahte's eyes widened in alarm as the scene unfolded.

Most beasts would have fallen to the ambush, so swift did she strike. This one had clearly earned its bounty. Now it was angry.

The heavy rumble of it's growl could be felt as much as heard, and Nahte could only be glad its new 'prey' had the sense not to turn her back immediately to the predatory cat.

Sparks gathered along the coerl's inky whiskers, and the air hummed with aether.

Shit.

This far up, he'd never reach her in time.

He lunged anyway, lance bared. There was no other choice.

A harsh, hiss-like whistle spilled from Nahte's lips as he broke cover, Huntspeak, and his second bird perched just above the unfolding scene dove like a thunderbolt.

Ilm-long talons buzzed the coerl's forehead before swooping up again to avoid a counterswipe, though Nahte could not see whether they'd drawn blood. It got the cat's attention, though, and bought both miqo'te time to move.

Lyrha has fantasized about going to one of those fancy Ishgardian balls with Khan, dressed to the nines, pretending they're both from Money for some kind of infiltration gig or heist. Maybe a dance. Some curtsies. All part of the game, you know.

Then raiding one of those cheese plates and a whole bottle of champagne, finding an empty bedroom just off the main hallway, and getting up to the kind of uncouth mischief that would make an Archbishop roll in his grave. She brought extra clothes. Y'know, in case their finery ended up inexplicably ripped to shreds.

Would she TELL Khan that? I don't know. But she's definitely thought about it during "me time."

Khanah'to would be DELIGHTED by this. This sounds like the PERFECT way to spend a weekend night in his time. The idea of pretending to fit in to high society while casing the place sounds delightful to him, and you definitely had him when you mentioned raiding some food and champagne before raiding an empty bedroom.

Except he'd insist on it being the master bedroom. He'd also insist on raiding the closet to find some expensive lingerie that the noble had commissioned for his wife that she'll never wear, and stealing it. And wearing it while they celebrate. Then her wearing it out and keeping it because she makes it look way better.

If they're going to have a scandalous, potentially illegal fling that flies in the face of societal standards of behavior, he wants to overdo it.

The ragged cry of an arbor buzzard high in the canopy turned Nahte's ear. Ten heartbeats later, another followed, fifteen yalms further to his left. Both birds had spotted their quarry.

Hidden in thick brush, with his back pressed against the great trunk of a mahogany tree, Nahte inhaled quietly. Counted the slow beats beneath his chest. Channeled his aether. Then jumped - twenty yalms up in a near straight shot, to perch high in the branches. Hopefully unseen.

One of his birds cried out again.

Springing to the adjacent tree, Nahte followed the sound, velvety black ears on swivels and blue eyes fixed on the next bough. He landed silently, the way only a Miqo'te born to a life hunting in the treetops could.

Beneath them, the slightest rustle in the undergrowth betrayed their quarry: a man-eating black coerl. Despite its size, it had grown sly enough to evade the local town's posse and subsequent patrols of Yellow Jackets. Reports claimed it would strike like a voidsent shadow, take its prey and vanish deep in the jungles of Vylbrand, where men could not follow.

They'd grown so desperate as to enlist the aid of The Hunt, and though Nahte had no real need of a bounty, he knew his trade well enough to feel a sense of responsibility about the situation.

So here he was. No moment thus far had been easy, but the trickiest step would be following it to a place of vulnerability. In such dense jungle, Nahte didn't have line of sight long enough to cast Sleep on the beast.

If he failed and it realized it was being stalked, he'd lose his best chance at taking it by surprise. If it fled, he lost the advantage. If it attacked... only his birds were here to help him. The Moonkeeper had opted to trek out alone in favor of stealth.

He was so intent on following his prey and keeping his quiet, it was almost too late before Nahte realized he wasn't the only one out here...

Eisha knew the beast would not resist the lure of a freshly killed antelope, she had timed the kill just right so it would still be warm enough to seem enticing.

She’d just have to wait for it to pounce, grow distracted by the fresh meat, and she could make her next move. The foliage of the jungle was high enough she could remain poised to strike, just one dash forward and her scythe would make contact, a whirling blade that would make quick work of the coeurl.

It steps into the clearing, eyeing the waiting meat. Eisha holds her breath, waiting for the right moment, when the rustling of birds wings overhead snags her attention. She looks over to her left, following the bird as it lands on the upper branch next to…. another Miqo’te?

She supposes the Hunt sent out more than one person to slay the beast, just to be sure the job would be completed. Too bad it would be her kill, and her reward in the end. She needed the gil if she wanted to survive, growing sick of scraping by.

She darts forward, scythe extended and only a few fulms away from victory. A silent fury, she heaves the weapon around to strike when the coeurl senses her — and nimbly crouches lower to the ground, narrowly avoiding her blade and hissing as it swipes at her and knocks her weapon out of her hand.

Shit shit shit. Don’t flee. Not yet.

#hope this looks ok! :3 #also no worries about post length!! i'm not overly fussed with that xD #especially in a combat scene when stuff's happenin fast #nahte & eisha

Ears flattening back against his skull, Nahte's eyes widened in alarm as the scene unfolded.

Most beasts would have fallen to the ambush, so swift did she strike. This one had clearly earned its bounty. Now it was angry.

The heavy rumble of it's growl could be felt as much as heard, and Nahte could only be glad its new 'prey' had the sense not to turn her back immediately to the predatory cat.

Sparks gathered along the coerl's inky whiskers, and the air hummed with aether.

Shit.

This far up, he'd never reach her in time.

He lunged anyway, lance bared. There was no other choice.

A harsh, hiss-like whistle spilled from Nahte's lips as he broke cover, Huntspeak, and his second bird perched just above the unfolding scene dove like a thunderbolt.

Ilm-long talons buzzed the coerl's forehead before swooping up again to avoid a counterswipe, though Nahte could not see whether they'd drawn blood. It got the cat's attention, though, and bought both miqo'te time to move.

The ragged cry of an arbor buzzard high in the canopy turned Nahte's ear. Ten heartbeats later, another followed, fifteen yalms further to his left. Both birds had spotted their quarry.

Hidden in thick brush, with his back pressed against the great trunk of a mahogany tree, Nahte inhaled quietly. Counted the slow beats beneath his chest. Channeled his aether. Then jumped - twenty yalms up in a near straight shot, to perch high in the branches. Hopefully unseen.

One of his birds cried out again.

Springing to the adjacent tree, Nahte followed the sound, velvety black ears on swivels and blue eyes fixed on the next bough. He landed silently, the way only a Miqo'te born to a life hunting in the treetops could.

Beneath them, the slightest rustle in the undergrowth betrayed their quarry: a man-eating black coerl. Despite its size, it had grown sly enough to evade the local town's posse and subsequent patrols of Yellow Jackets. Reports claimed it would strike like a voidsent shadow, take its prey and vanish deep in the jungles of Vylbrand, where men could not follow.

They'd grown so desperate as to enlist the aid of The Hunt, and though Nahte had no real need of a bounty, he knew his trade well enough to feel a sense of responsibility about the situation.

So here he was. No moment thus far had been easy, but the trickiest step would be following it to a place of vulnerability. In such dense jungle, Nahte didn't have line of sight long enough to cast Sleep on the beast.

If he failed and it realized it was being stalked, he'd lose his best chance at taking it by surprise. If it fled, he lost the advantage. If it attacked... only his birds were here to help him. The Moonkeeper had opted to trek out alone in favor of stealth.

He was so intent on following his prey and keeping his quiet, it was almost too late before Nahte realized he wasn't the only one out here...

#ffxiv rp #nahte & eisha

Khanah'to rolls his eyes and sighs, settling into a seat at the Quicksand, and he takes a very long draw of a hip flask.

It's Valentione's. He hates Valentione's.

He takes another long draw. He's drinking faster than he wants. Than he knows he should. But fuck Valentione's. The whole holiday sucks, or so he believes.

Good luck convincing him otherwise.