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@lunarianborn
this is strictly for CANONICAL single muse blogs of final fantasy characters. if you are a MUTLIMUSE blog then redirect to this post here. if you are an ORIGINAL CHARACTER single muse blog then redirect to this post here. please reblog this and put the following information in the tags:
username . game . character's canonical name . #tracked tag
so because i have a single muse blog for angeal hewley it would be tagged as such:
ofsgiathan . crisis core ff7 . angeal hewley . ofsgiathan
if you have any questions, comments, or concerns then please message me. and if you intend on changing your username then please send me an ask and let me know by providing the following information:
previous username → new username previous tracked tag → new tracked tag
“I have learned not to fear the times that are dark. Some flowers need the light to grow. Some flowers only bloom for the moon.”
— B. Damani || Petal By Petal
Luis Ricardo Falero, ‘Twin Stars’ (detail)
farewell ,
𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 / feelings.
𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒. being unable to stop smiling. laughter. bear hugs. happy tears. waving arms around. dancing. contently sighing. eyes twinkling. laughter lines. childlike playfulness. skipping. talking more. affection. cracking more jokes than usual. gesturing more when talking. higher pitched voice. squealing. jumping around. clapping.
𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒. tearing up. self-hugging. one-arm cross. an aching chest. scratchy throat. a runny nose. turning away. deep breaths. quivery smiles. crying. infantile sobbing. hands gripping each other or an object. covering mouth. puffy eyes. eyes appear red. voice breaking. a distant or empty stare. monotone voice. asking for comfort. faking a smile. crumbling. shaking. whimpering. depression. abusing an unhealthy habit. withdrawing from others. big teary eyes. doing something even if it could hurt them.
𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑. furrowed brows. baring teeth. passive-aggressive comments. avoiding eye contact. sarcasm. headache. sore muscles. hiding clenched fists. irritability. jumping to conclusions. raising voice. going silent. demanding immediate action. keeping it all in until exploding. body tensing. making risky decisions. middle finger.
𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑. wanting to flee or hide. what-ifs. images of what-could-be flashing in mind. uncontrollable trembling. rapid breathing. screaming. a skewed sense of time. irritability. keeping silent. denying fear. turning away from the cause. pretending to be brave. nail-biting. lip-biting. scratching skin. a joking tone but a voice that cracks. fainting. insomnia. panic attacks. exhaustion. substance abuse. tics. rushing adrenaline. face draining of color. hair lifting on the back of the neck. feeling rooted to the spot. making body as small as possible. staring but not seeing. crying. a shrill voice. whispering. gripping something or someone. stuttering. flinching at noises. pleading.
𝐄𝐗𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍. constantly yawning. blurring words together. dark circles or lines under eyes. mood swings. hallucinations. calling people by the wrong name. dizziness. denying they’re tired. slow blinking. trouble concentrating. stumbling. leaning on a doorframe for support. sluggish movements. falling asleep someplace that isn’t a bed. becoming irritated by the smallest things. “I’m awake, I’m fine.” shaking so bad they spill their drink. fall asleep in their clothes. laying their head on the table because they’re so tired. passing out.
tagged by: stolen from dash tagging: @roseofbaron @cornelianlute and whoever sees this!
roseofbaron:
Rosa’s gaze followed Cecil’s, back to her arrow lodged high into the tree, back lit by the sun that now slowly crept towards the horizon. “I suppose I have been out longer than I told her I would be. Supper is probably made and set already…” There was no doubt in Rosa’s mind that she would get a good scolding once she returned to Baron. Between her tardiness and her ruined dress it was enough to earn her a week’s worth of extra volunteer work in the castle’s infirmary.
Not that Rosa would mind the work per se, but it certainly would take all her free time away for that week.
Rosa returned her gaze toward Cecil, offering a new smile. “The arrow can wait until morning. Since you troubled yourself so much to fetch me, I’ll trouble Kain with the retrieval.” Out of their little circle, Kain was perhaps best suited for that type of work anyway. Just as Cecil had been concerned with Rosa’s ascent of the cliffs, Rosa too would be concerned should he attempt the stunt himself. She certainly believed he could do it should he put his mind to it, but there was a lot less risk having a dragoon, who was accustomed to such heights to begin with, retrieve the arrow.
Having decided the task could wait, Rosa moved to gather the rest of her belongings. She began by collecting the arrows she could reach, pulling them from the makeshift targets she had made from boards of wood taken from scraps in Cid’s workshop (which were given by Cid without hardly any convincing). Nearly all had made their targets, save for the first few she launched in practice and the final one mocking her from above. The arrows were stowed in her quiver along with her bow which she had retrieved from the base of the cliffs. She searched around one last time before nodding in approval, having gathered all that was important, and returned to Cecil’s side.
Looping her arm through his, she smiled once more at him and began leading them back to town. “Since you have been so troubled today, I think it only fitting you should join us for supper. I’m certain my mother made more than enough food. Plus, she should owe you some sort of reward for finding me, I think.”
Of course she could’ve asked Kain to do it. They both knew he would have never refused, and that he could pull the deed off with the greatest of ease. For an instant though, her words allowed for a pang of sudden guilt to crawl through his conscience -- despite knowing his best friend would have never turned down one of Rosa’s request or wish, Cecil wondered if not insisting further now and just climbing that tree for the stray arrow would have made him appear different, unfit and not-that-much-chivalrous before her; yet, the feeling lasted but a fleeting second, considering the risks someone not used to such heights could have run. Having shook the thought out of his heart, he observed her retrieving the reachable arrows.
When she was done and ready to leave, he felt her jumping by his side and taking his arm. After a second spent in surprise, he nodded and smiled at her, finally leaving that patch of wilderness to head home. A gentle, fresh breeze accompanied them, almost urging their steps. Once or twice, Cecil did turn his head back, towards the distant forest trees, praying for no one -- be it beast or monster -- to emerge and even just laying their gaze towards them.
❛ I’d be honored to join you, as long as my presence won’t cause any inconvenience. I remember your mother’s meals to be so full of flavors, ❜ Cecil chuckled at the offer, ❛ As expected from one as knowledgeable as her. ❜ He wasn’t sure to remember the exact number of times he had ever been invited to dine at her place; when he was younger, and the hours would drag on restlessly during their carefree spare time, Rosa would have invited him and Kain home for supper. He recalled those rare moments with joy, no matter the strict attitude he felt Joanna would’ve sometimes reserved him, and him alone. Still, situations like those had always felt so different than feasts in the castle, oftentimes alone, in a hall full of lords and knights he didn’t know, and so far away from the King’s seat too; the Farrells’ fireplace, their smaller table and cozier atmosphere had instead made his young mind fantasize and think a lot if such a simpler meal with a normal family had to look like that, for children his age.. Now that many summer had passed from those self-indulgent, melancholic thoughts by the Farrell dinner table, a deep sense of everlasting gratitude had taken the hold of Cecil’s memories..
He breathed all his stress out with a little sigh once the two crossed the gate of Baron. He recalled his mission, as well as Joanna being fretful and quite agitated. ❛ I hope her hurry hasn’t spoiled any appetite. Back then, I didn’t think to ask if she was in any sort of predicament or if she simply wished to talk to you, but perhaps-- ❜ he said amiably. Rosa was a child no more, but Joanna might’ve been still seeing her as such -- he wasn’t meant to know, nor pry about it; that wasn’t something he could understand either. Perhaps, a bit of that motherly concern had prompted him to act before thinking...
Rosa’s house was quite easy to reach. He knew those streets like the back of his hand, and her place couldn’t be missed being so close to the inn and pub; the house looked simple from the outside, but it was much bigger than any other buildings around -- plus, it was also located right by the canal flowing through Baron. ❛ We made it. ❜ He slowed down his pace at the sight of the familiar door, to look down at his figure and clothes for a moment and make sure to appear in order; with a brief smile, he then let Rosa take the lead now, following two steps behind her, but before he could offer to carry inside her bow and quiver to ease her movements and let her rest a bit, the door opened before them. And behind it, a woman in a blue dress and tied blond hair appeared - her eyes so similar in color to Rosa’s.
☾ @roseofbaron : ‘ love is never a weakness ’ ☽ POETRY STARTERS
Had one of ser Allard’s most “engaging” students used her exact same words before the man, Cecil wouldn’t have been surprised to see the poor, unfortunate soul receiving a throughout scolding and an exemplary beating in front of the whole class on top of that. He was careful enough to appear as complacent as his heart could allow it during teaching hours, especially when his lessons as Dark Knight had turned suddenly almost too intense and strenuous to keep up, physically and not; their noble trainer, a rather old man now, who had once served as Dark Knight when the current king was but a child, and seemed to have grown old and scary just for that job -- albeit his methods had appeared too strict at first, Cecil knew better than questioning orders or complaining . Especially when his master did wield a sword almost as heavy as a full-grown adult with incredible ease.
No matter the fear, the anxiety and fatigue -- all of that would lead the students towards their final purpose: to serve as elite Dark Knights of Baron, a privilege and an honor for a few lucky chosen, provided they could overcome and survive the training. He was not to fail any expectations, not when the King had been so generous and gracious to allow him to be trained in order to join such an esteemed force, despite his origins and childhood. It was a chance he couldn’t let slip away, one he had to be thankful for. And so, if ser Allard and his many comrades would often repeat to the young boys in training that feelings such as love, compassion or kindness would be a hindrance to their mission, a legit and fatal source of weakness, he just had to take those words to heart.
Nothing about that, though, made the dark, cursed blade he was learning to wield and swing any lighter. And nothing made his expression, physique and visage any less worn out - a sign Rosa, who had known him since they were children, wasn’t slow to notice. One or two details about Dark Knight training routines were simply destined to slip Cecil’s control, too. It was plainly inevitable. ❛ I know... ❜ he reassured her, noticing her indignant tone. ❛ But I doubt his words are to be taken literally, he might have had a bad day. ❜
Rosa was too benign, as well as brave. Still, she was no innocent, docile lamb. No doubt she would have not stayed silent at the harsh words Dark Knights would use to drain the youth, he suspected as much; yet, just the thought of her being subjected to such treatment made the skin of his neck and back curl in painful goosebumps, and Cecil began fidgeting with the little blade of grass he had inadvertently plucked from the field by the shade created by the town walls. Diverse as day and night, as the sun and the moons -- a White Mage and a Dark Knight couldn’t have been more different jobs. ❛ They talk like that a lot. It’s bound to cease soon, though, do not sound that worried. Ser Allard mentioned a trial, probably to be held out of Baron. And we would need more than words in hope to succeed. ❜
And yet, nothing in the world would have made those heavy words about love and kindness feel any less important now. The dread was to consume the Knight’s heart, lest the sword would consume the heart itself, driving the man to madness and a rampage of death -- any doubt, any moment of hesitation, or a warm unexpected feeling blooming in his chest would have burned all of the past efforts, all the training he endured and would have burned the palm of his hands at the mere touch of his dark blade... or so he was continuously told. Still, Rosa’s protest, her gentle gaze and warmth just couldn’t possibly be his downfall, his shame as a knight. It sounded impossible, nonsensical. And he smiled bitterly then, basking in her gentle-looking eyes for another endless moment. To comfort her, and to reassure himself.
Sarah Williams, from The Old Astronomer; Twilight Hours: A Legacy of Verse, 1886
FFXIV JOBS ▶ PALADIN
↳ For centuries, the elite of the Sultansworn have served as personal bodyguards to the royal family of Ul'dah. Known as paladins, these men and women marry exquisite swordplay with stalwart shieldwork to create a style of combat uncompromising in its defense. Clad in brilliant silver armor, they charge fearlessly into battle, ever ready to lay down their lives for their liege. To be a paladin is to protect, and those who choose to walk this path will become the iron foundation upon which the party’s defense is built.
𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 : 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑S
𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐒 . true romantic , loving the classics , pricked fingers , perfect makeup done to impress , bruises easily , beloved but unknown , soul as old as time , overused and under-appreciated .
𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐒 . clean linens , youthful naivety , family , wide open spaces , running barefoot , moving towards instead of away , trying to forget about death , sun blindness .
𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 . standing tall , strong roots , a home to always return to , warm summer air , holding onto lost hope , belief in growth , painted overalls , split ends .
𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐒 . the end of spring , determination for the truth , cold and cautious , moonlight on windowsills , the taste of ice , unnecessary shyness , quiet belief in the extraordinary , complicated morals .
𝐃𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐒 . mom friend , sweets , the smell of baking , riverbanks , leaving behind a toxic situation , being happy with your reflection , believing in luck , moving in a pack .
𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 . sour candies , unappreciated elegance , valour , crystals projecting rainbows on white walls , unintended organization , old royalty , refusal to bow , learning a new language for the fun of it .
𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 . secret poison , perfect handwriting , crisp consonants , pressed and ironed sheets , open windows , infinite persistence , thick skin , colder hands .
𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐀𝐂 . fleeting and fair , strong but delicate , radiating good vibes , the beauty of falling apart , the joy in being scattered , soft fabrics , whirlwind romance , keeping the door open .
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 : @sanctiichor aaaa tysm <3
𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 : whoever hasn’t done this yet !
Finished this last night! Cecil, from FFIV.
‘Beware what you speak,’ said the Merlin very softly, 'for indeed the words we speak make shadows of what is to come, and by speaking them we bring them to pass, my king.’
Marion Zimmer Bradley, The Mists of Avalon - Merlin, the wise (via ankh-uas-djed-nefer)
☾ @roseofbaron : 4, 5, 10 (which I already know but still love hearing about anyway !!), 17, and 19 ☽ CHILDHOOD HEADCANONS : accepting
[ aaaa i’ll get to all of them except n.17 since i’ve replied to it already, here ! thank you, now I can indulge in more sweet smol Cecil thoughts ! ]
What is their earliest memory?
Because of the big impact the event served for his psyche and life, I am quite sure one of his earliest memory is the day he got to meet Kain, and Rosa. He was quite young, and his earliest years of life although grand and spent in wealth, surely could have never prepared him to the harshness of that one circumstance haha ! Most importantly, I imagine Cecil to have never been struck or hit by anyone or anything, by that age; firstly, due to his status - privileged while rooted in mere luck and the mercy of a kind monarch -- and secondly, because he happened to be the scrawny, frail-looking child. He is meek, though, and while I have no evidences, I’m prone to think he was the obedient child, rarely deserving to be punished -- at least before the martial life of his years as squire and soldier began.
Granted, Cecil wasn’t actually hit by Kain thanks to Rosa’s intervention, the fight stopping right before it could blow up into something bigger, despite their very, very young age. It was a children’s quarrel, but never before had Cecil have to deal with a situation like that - the threat, being called spoiled (did nobles consider him that ? where would have Kain known of things like that anyway, if not through rumors ? after all, they still didn’t know each other’s names, so they were too young even for attending school together too) and unable to fight, and grabbed by the collar of his shirt in order to trigger his reaction. As years passed, details of that one event became blurred in his memory, as for example the true reason why the fight was about to start -- or the fact Cecil did talk back to Kain, so he too isn’t without faults. But the importance of it all, in the end, lies in the comfort of knowing it served as Cecil’s first meeting with the most important people in his life.
What is an entertaining story from your muse’s childhood?
On a particular hot summer day, he thought it would have been fine to lead his mount out of the city walls and by the nearby river to bathe and play with it. The bird, a rather active and stubborn golden-feathered chocobo was his very first, personal steed, a gift for his tenth nameday, and the perfect companion to practice riding; the steed was usually kept in the royal stables most of the time, was born in captivity and was young and temperamental too -- though he always behaved in his master’s presence, and let the boy ride him quite easily.
Cecil chose the river to bathe because children had been strictly forbidden from playing in the city’s channeled waterway -- although wells scattered around Baron did already provide citizens of the necessary edible, clean water already. The boy led the chocobo west of the town, before entering the woods, in a meadow where the nearby river did spiral in a gentle curve. The place wasn’t new to him, anyway; he had played there countless times with his friends, and kids his age knew and frequented the place for the same reason he was there. Fully-clothed, thinking the scorching summer sun would have taken care of it later on, he jumped in the cool running water to find relief, while his chocobo played around.
At some point, the child felt something grabbing at his left ankle from underwater. Stirring the depths were a couple of monsters; they were small, sand-colored and looked like a fish (one he had never seen before), all provided with an impressive jaw of tiny sharp teeth. Feeling threatened, the odd ‘fish’ had attacked the intruder. Realizing what was happening and starting to feel pain at the ankle, Cecil started squirming in a panicked frenzy, rushing out of the water as fast as he could while that particular fish wouldn’t let go of his foot. The chocobo, having noticed the ruckus and the threat too, was chirping and stomping around the river’s edge.
When Cecil got out of the water, with the creature still biting at his shoe and ankle, he gathered all his courage and violently started kicking the fish with his free, unharmed foot. At around the eight, or ninth kick, he sent the fish flying over his and the chocobo’s head, his shoes still in his jaws; scared beyond reason by that sight, the bird emitted a loud shriek and simply ran away from the spot, saddled and with his bridle still on, into the nearby woods.
It took Cecil a few minutes to process what had just happened and that he most likely needed medication. He returned to Baron by foot, on a bleeding ankle. The day he lost his chocobo, and one of his shoes, was a memory remembered with fondness in adulthood; the fish-monsters weren’t big enough to kill him, but the injury did leave the kid limping for a week or so... although the punishment he received for his reckless behavior and the loss of a royal steed lasted way more than that.
What was your muse’s favourite toy?
Ahh the bunny plushie 2 : electric boogaloo ! I’ve talked in great lengths about this headcanon of mine in a previous post here - but this only enables me to add cute facts and things to it, eheh. The rabbit never had a true name, but on occasions, it was simply given temporary silly names to add to the game Cecil, with Kain or/and Rosa, might have been playing with it for the sake of convenience. As it usually served as the little critter or damsel in distress to save from evil dragons and wizards - toys and scenarios Kain appreciated a lot too, the kids began identifying the plushie as a she-bunny to rescue from evils of all nature.
Having been a toy Cecil kept since he was a baby, it does look quite worn-out. During playtime, in order to try and hide its most damaged spots the best way they could, the little kids would use small pieces of fabric lent by chambermaids, or leather stolen from the hunters and royal tailors, as well as colorful ribbons to tie around its neck or ears. At the end of the day through, Cecil would usually remove all of them from his toy and leave it bare and clean, to have it in bed together with him as he fell asleep. He did sleep with it for quite some time, the old habit fading away as he grew up and finished his mandatory studies before the military academy.
Did your muse have any nicknames as a child? Did they give nicknames to others?
Cecil was too well-spoken and kind to think of or to give nicknames. Being raised by nobles, that’s quite expected: he knows the weight a name -- unimportant, or not -- can bear and was taught to use honorifics quite early on to refer to people. The only time he’d use ‘nicknames’ was, for example, to refer to someone without it being too easy to notice, maybe joking with Kain or something about someone in private.
I can imagine Cecil having nicknames, around town and noble houses. Perhaps something about his conditions -- he was a lucky foundling, given a family name like Harvey AND being adopted by the king. If there have been hostile-sounding nicknames in his regards when he was a baby, then he has no true knowledge of it. Thinking about it, the fact he was given that name too, just because his features did look like Cecilia’s, while having no proof whatsoever he was her son indeed, is something similar to a nickname, no ? Maybe in an ancient, medieval sort of way, because it implies more than what one would normally assume, in hindsight.
He always carried this sort of androgynous aura around him, and as a child, it was only more evident and easy to see. This might have made people mistake him for a girl, at times, and I can imagine it rising some other nicknames -- not to mention his odd appearance, which did, at some point, spark the rumor of him being part of the fae-folk, of “eidolonian” or cursed descent, even harbinger of calamity due to his pale and weird hues and complexion.
— with a hop to her step, she flashed her pearly whites at his majesty, lifting a hand in a cheerful V symbol. she hoped it accentuated her green eyes & made her look cool. “goooood morning, your majesty.” diana was not about to genuflect for him but still, warmth & admiration was obvious in her expression. “the white mage corps is doing juuuust fine!~ i mean, if you were going ask… you know?" well, as far as she knew at least; diana hadn’t even mastered cura yet.
@lunarianborn liked for a starter!
He found her high spirits quite the contagious element, especially so early in the morning, and he smiled at her out of mere reflex. Sincere though, he recollected his thoughts. Usually, mages did respond to Rosa more than to the king - especially now, in precious times of peace; moreover, it was only natural for them, he thought, since Rosa was considered the most skilled white mage of all of Baron -- a title which always made her the rightly prominent figure among fellow mages.
❛ That’s good to hear, ‘though I didn’t intend to pry so early in the day, ❜ the king said with calm, his arms crossing lightly just under his chest. In a sense, the bright temperament and energies reminded the paladin of the twin mages from Mysidia, Palom and Porom; ❛ But I shall take heed of this report, and tell Rosa as I see her. ❜
Now that he thought about it, he had heard from Rosa of new acolytes being welcomed inside the castle for their studies on magic and spells, not even long ago too. Their classes, for what he remembered, always did seem and sound quite the peculiar ones -- ... for example, Cecil could clearly remember young black mages trying to cast sleep or frog spells among the clueless members of the court; episodes of such kind always used to happen, ever since he was young. Common people did think twice before indulging in magical adepts for that reason too, although the scholars were usually justified by their young age and playfulness.
And yet, a guide was required to make them the capable and strong wielders of arcane arts and healing enchantments. ❛ Are your studies proceeding apace ? ❜