FFXIV Role Play character | Balmung server. Pure blooded Garlean. Novelist of some renown. Political dissident. Hobbyists engineer and semi professional flirt. Main acount: red-dlai
(quick translation to a song that makes me think a lot of Priscilla)
There are still remnants of humidity,
your smells fill now my loneliness,
thereâs a silhouette on the bed
drawing itself as a promise
to fill this brief moment without you
I still donât know if youâll come back,
no one knows, the next day, what youâll do.
she breaks all the schematics,
she wont confess a single shame,
she wont ask for anything in return.
She tends to be violent and tender ,
she doesnât speak of eternal bonding,
but she gives herself
like thereâs only one day left to love
She doesnât share reunions,
but she likes songs
that challenges her thoughts.
I still couldnât ask âWould you stay?â.
I fear so much and answer of âNever.â.
Iâd prefer to share her
before emptying my life,
she is not perfect
but she is close
so what i simply dreamed. Â
I tried to do all the bingo cards of people who responded to mine! Alongside @glorified-thievesâ because, while having only recently started following them, I really like their content! I may fill out more cards as people respond to mine / I see ones that interest me!
Also! Bingo on both Raihâirâs and Beeâs!Â
Credits (in order): @pervasivescariness, @rinrin-rinalys, @glorified-thieves, @gaggle-of-dorks-ffxiv, @verkoh, @magitek-powered-calligraphy
Standard Template: Click Me!
Sunsgerelâs Sheet: Click Me!Â
Art By: @yourou, full piece here.
Thank you for all the really nice comments youâve all left on Sunsgerelâs sheet. â„
Maybe a little late to the party? Still would be nice if people tried to fill it out and we can get to learn a bit about each otherâs characters! Even if we have not met in game!
Maybe a little late to the party? Still would be nice if people tried to fill it out and we can get to learn a bit about each otherâs characters! Even if we have not met in game!
Rules: Respond to this with a reblog containing your filled out bingo !
Want to make your own? Template available >>here<<
.psd template: Tinyuploadlink (courtesy of @meandering-mind!)
Hopping on the, âHow Similar Are You ToâŠâ meme! How similar is your character to Sunsgerel?
Inspired By: @tiergan-vashir, @honoura, and @pervasivescariness!
How To Play:Â
Save this picture
Cross off your squares
See if you get a bingo!
Reblog this image with your results!
Standard Template: Click Me!
Art By: @yourou, full piece here.Â
I wonât be tagging people for this one because it might be a little bit too much work for those without the energy. But if you think itâs fun, please do it and tag me!Â
Maybe a little late to the party? Still would be nice if people tried to fill it out and we can get to learn a bit about each otherâs characters! Even if we have not met in game!
Priscillaâs blood is probably an unhealthy mix of coffee and wine, so I went for a cup a coffee. Very strong coffee with a dash of cream. She values quantity over quality on her âawake juiceâ opting to add a marshmallow or side it with butter cookies whenever possible. Sheâd really like the black/gold aesthetic of this cup. Either she has a full matching tea set on her apartment or bagged it from somewhere else after liking it so much!
tagged by: @magitekmammet Thank you so much for this! <3
tagging: anyone that sees this, really, just be sure to tag me so i can see it! @ivaan-ffxiv @onwesterlywinds @thefreshpawofeorzea @dat-paw @reflectionsofacreator @gamordan-stormrider @varsvekis @dustdjinn @ahlis-xiv @cogflox @miqo-tales @duchessdynamic @thelegendofivalice Â
Job:Â Priscilla is main and foremost a writer. She is bent on witnessing history and writing the truth that happened, hence the Chronicler. For self defense and to help her friends out she put her engineering talents to work to deal damage from a distance or join the fray with her new toys.
Weapons:Â Her weapon of choice is a very old gift from her father, a pre-military magiteck rifle she upkeep and modifies on her spare time. She named this rifle the Heiral. After recent events and a slight shift on mindset, she has made herself a gunblade she calls Beoulve.
AI Behavior:Â If chosen as a DPS. Prisiclla tends to go all out immediately when pulled, trying to end the fight as quickly as possible and landing her pretty high on the enmity table. This change when fighting spoken races, in which case she hesitates greatly before engaging on the fight. On a tank role Priscilla is more resolute to do what must be done and will fight to protect the party.
Battle Lines:
Engaging Enemy -Â âLetâs make this quick!â /Â âMust it come to this?â (against spoken races)
Skill Use 1 (Common) -Â âTake this!â
Skill Use 2 (Common) -Â âPlease stay down!â
Skill Use 3 (Rare/Cooldown) -Â âWeâve come this far!â
Assist -Â âNot the date I had in mindâ /wink
Sunrise peered through their small room inside the Sandsea. Underneath the sheets were both bare, embraced. Last night when she arrived she had yearned for intimacy. Just not the kind driven by lust and the time spent away from him. What she yearned was warmth and safety. To be held tight and told everything was going to be okay. What she yearned for was a balm for a wounded heart. A warmth she found on the known, the old. A safety she felt in her oldest friend. A safety she thought lost and not be found anywhere else, not after all that's happened. For his part, he found solace in her safety. She needed a pillar and he had sworn to be there for her. He swallowed his worry, his anger and his feelings of incompetence and inadequacy. Raised by a few pillows he silently laid there, brushing her hair with his fingers as she finally fell asleep.
The lamp by the bedside table was lit. She refused to sleep in the dark even then. Not that she slept much during the night, sobbing until the beginning hours of the morning where she exhausted herself. He stayed awake during the ordeal, ready for her to speak even if he was not sure how to console here, then relieved when she managed to sleep. It wasnât until the heat of the afternoon when she woke up once more and began to speak.
âYou were right.â She began, her voice weak and a bit hoarse. âYou were always. And you knew it, right? That is why you came here. Why you joinedâŠâ She sobbed. âI want to go home.â
Serbius parted away stray strands of hair from her face, but said nothing. For all he knew, the words he'd always wanted are unfolding before him. But he did not feel happy, or elated. None of that mattered now, just her immediate safety.
âI wanted to be a hero. Like the books I love to read. Like the books I write.â She let out a bitter smile. âBut I am not like them, or like you.â Her tears began again rolling down his chest. âI watched them slowly change by those stones. Not knowing if it was them anymore. Not knowing if calling them out would spell my doom. Were I to speak against them, would it had been me who ended a pile of dust and ash? I was powerless to do anything. Or maybe too terrified to try. I couldn't shoot. I was inches from the legatus and I couldnât do the job. I could only write what could have been the end of us all. The events as well as my thoughts and conjectures...â she allowed herself to chuckle. âA lot of my guesses were right⊠maybe I shouldâve been a detective.â
âWhat⊠what happened?â Serbius finally asked with a soft and gentle tone. Minutes passed. Priscilla shook her head instead of answering and worked her way out of the bed, searching for wherever she had dropped her gear when she entered. Moments later she sat back on the bed with her trusty rifle on hand. She pressed a few parts of the grip and before long a compartment opened containing journal entries she had crammed in.
âHid the most important here in case⊠well⊠in case you found it.â She looked away, embarrassed. While it was settled within her that she could have died in the campaign to Rabanastre, she was more worried about the sloppy and hasty confession that was also written within those pages.
Serbius grabbed them gingerly and unraveled them, reading them one by one. Once again, between those pages, he found what he always wanted to hear. But he said nothing on the matter. âI should have been there.â He whispered before beckoning her back to his side. She complied and they spent the next couple of hours going over the details of what happened.
Later into the evening Serbius came back to the room with a basket of fruits and a couple of canteens with water. Ever thoughtful. She smiled as he approached, grabbing a small loaf of bread once he sat back down and slowly picked on it.
âWhat now?â He asked. âWhat next?â
Priscilla took a deep breath. âI am not sure. I canât lie and say everything is back to normal. I canât say I donât want to flee.â She frowned at her thoughts. âFor now Iâll finish what I came here to do and then⊠we could go.â She finished.
Serbius flashed half a sad smile. Again, things he wished to hear but the circumstances broke his heart. âCanât really go.â He started, and it killed him. Part of him urging him to stop. Would have been so easy to say the right words, twelve knew heâd practiced them. But he wasnât thinking of himself. âIt is possible. Abandon it all. Thereâs a few places we could live without raising much suspicion. We could live off the land, quietly. Own a few pets, a small forge.â He trailed off. âAnd you would be miserable, full of regrets. No matter what you chose, the nightmares will always chase you.â He spoke from experience, flashes of his own sins crossing his mind.
She took some time in silence, soaking his words in. âWhat can I do, then?â
âWe work, we train, we learn.â He replied, a bit too quickly, an answer heâd been stewing for some time.
âWhat?â She asked, not quite sure what he wanted to do.
âThey are also experts in their fields. You are the most clever woman Iâve met, you also got your engineering and your rifle and a heart of gold. But they got years of fighting eikons, causing troubles and toppling governments.â His stood up, walking about the room as he explained. âIn Erueka you could help because your knowledge matched the task at hand. In Dalmasca you were outmatched, and those who had the knowledge were also thralls to these stones. The answer is simple, we must raise our expertise so we can match them.â
âI donât think simple is the word you wanted to use.â Priscilla managed a chuckle.
âWe must learn of their magics and their aether. Find all the information, from books and our companions, about Eikons. Be it beast tribes or kami, how they are summoned, how they thrive and how they have been defeated. We must learn of their healings arts and their restrictions. Everything. The information is within our grasp. If you really want to help them, you must raise to match them. If you want to save them next time, you must aim to exceed them.â
âItâs gonna be an undertaking.â Priscilla frowned.
âLike being back at the academy. Be ready for some actual training as well.â He smiles. âThere is much training you missed by never joining the military. I know I wanted you to keep you away from the front-line. But I realize it will be safer for you to be ready for it⊠Reminds me.â Serbius sat back down on the bed. âCan you craft a gun-blade?â Priscilla smiled.
Northern Thanalan. Reaching the meeting point itself was a challenge. Serbius needed to talk to his superior contact on a semi-regular basis. But in order to get there and back safety he needed to avoid the Garleans, The Immortal Flames and any odd Ulâdahan guard on the way. The job assigned to him was first to watch over Priscilla bas Scaevola and eliminate her if her writing became a liability to the Empire. Due to the lower quantity of troops, caused in great part by the Riskbreakers efforts in the liberation of Alla Mhigo, Serbius work was doubled to watch over the Riskbreakers and report back their status and movements. This were jobs he performed with spectacular and deliberate mediocrity.
Becoming a double agent was a very dangerous endeavor. His true allegiance was with the Riskbreakers and his primary concern was Priscillaâs safety. To keep face with the Empire and keep the charade going as long as possible he needed to feed the Garleans some veridic information, especially when inconsequential, and travel a thin line between appearing useful and being a purposely incompetent spy. When delivering his reports, it helped him that the âmain battalionâ was out in a campaign on the Far East and his superiors were already expecting uneventful and bland reports.
Serbius and his contact exchanged formal military greetings once they found each other on the cold of the Thanalan desert. After making sure they were not followed or watched, the two laid their backs against a stone wall and looked over the ceruleum mines, the ever-contested spot.
âRelax, soldier.â His superior said, procuring a pipe and lighting it. Serbius let his shoulder slouch and a forced sigh, he wanted out of this reunion as soon as possible. The man took a long drag of his pipe and gestured a hand at Serbius. They made a quick exchange, the pipe for the report. He began skimming over the report, pages and pages of drabble written by Serbius with nothing really useful. Serbius knew he would skip greater and greater portions the more things dragged on, a weakness he wanted to exploit. âYour job sure is boring Lentia. Specially with them all in Dalmasca.â
âIâm sure there will be more when they come back.â Serbius shrugged and considered taking a drag of the pipe in order to keep face.
âIf.â His superior challenged him. Using his lighter to burn Serbius report once he finished going over it. âWord I hear the IVth have it covered. Maybe this will be your last few months here and theyâll assign your back to Kugane. Must be nice you bastard.â He gave a genuine chuckle to Serbius, who masked his worry by taking a forced dragged on the pipe and coughing it out. His superior handed him a report of his own. âHereâs what we do know. Twenty years of aan to end up dying a traitor.â Serbius took the documents and handed back the pipe. Â âMakes sense why they went east, doesnât it?â
The Document detailed two events, one in way more detail than the other. The first was a mark of treason for Malla dus Velius, notarius for the IVth legionâs 9th Bureau, allegedly aboard the Prima Vista. The other confirms a survival of a high-profile prisoner, sighted in Valnain. The rest on the individual was too classified to be included in the document. Itâs mention prompted Serbius to think the two events might be connected.
That is when his hidden linkshell came to life with an open message. He pretended to read the document once more while he focused on trying to hear the Riskbreakerâs broadcast.
âEveryone -â A male voice came out a static, Alla Mhigan by the accent. âI donât know who can listen, but our friends are in deep trouble.â No, no, no⊠His heart sank, the voice continued. âAll available hands to the High Seraph! We are leaving for Dalmasca as soon as we can!â
Serbius was unable to respond, and based on his quick estimate, too far away to join. He wished to make a hasty retreat and go board the High Seraph, but he was already risking much in this rendezvous. If he was not careful to play his cards, the next report would contain his own name and put his new allegiance at risk.
âEverything alright?â His superior raised an eyebrow behind his helm.
âHm? Yeah.â He lied, and gestured for a lighter. âJust⊠why tell us about this prisoner, so far away and everything is classified. Why bother, you know?â He grabbed the lighter as it was handed to him and lit the papers he had on hand. His superior shrugged, taking one more drag of his pipe. âAnything else? Should get going before the next Flames patrol.â
A minute or more of chit chat and the two exchanged salutes before parting ways. Serbius swiftly skulked his way south of the Ceruleum Plant. As soon as he felt himself clear of suspecting eyes, he walked faster and faster until he found himself full sprinting towards the Goblet. It shouldâve been me, I shouldâve gone. He repeated on his head over and over again. Rage flashed through him. He wanted to be mad at Ashelia, for putting Priscilla on dangerâs way. Instead he recognized who were really putting her, putting them all in danger: The Empire.
Serbius arrived at the Sandsea to find it vacant as he rushed to the hangar. He was too late and felt powerless and useless in this situation. A note was next to a communicator, the same contents that were sent out to the linkshell. Serbius took a deep breath and grabbed a hold of the communicator. Hoping his own message was not too little too late:
âThe Empire has flagged our contact, Malla dus Velius, for treason. Proceed with caution.â
Midnight fell over Rabanastre. The cold of the desert began creeping the streets with the incessant chirping of crickets. Inside a storage room was Akhutai, the Xaela, mindlessly repairing his gear. He inspected his armor, cleaning the grime with a rag, and replacing broken or torn straps with new pieces of leather.
Then entered Priscilla, hair curling wet, smelling warm of honey, lavender and spice. She wore a sheer gown of dalmascan fashion and not much else as a smile slowly crept. âIâm sorry, looks like I missed my quarters. Mustâve been the heat of the bath.â
âIâm sureâ Akhutai replied, rolling his eyes.
Midnight fell over Rabanastre. The cold of the desert began creeping the streets with the incessant chirping of crickets. Inside a storage room was Akhutai, the Xaela, mindlessly repairing his gear. He inspected his armor, cleaning the grime with a rag, and replacing broken or torn straps with new pieces of leather.
Then entered Priscilla, hair curling wet, smelling warm of honey, lavender and spice. She wore a sheer gown of dalmascan fashion and not much else as a smile slowly crept. âIâm sorry, looks like I missed my quarters. Mustâve been the heat of the bath.â
âIâm sureâ Akhutai replied, rolling his eyes.
âDo you mind? Or were you all talk?â She asked. He took a good look at her with a slight frown before putting his armor to the side. She locked the door, slowly strutting her way to him.
She pulled up his undershirt slightly before tenderly placing her hands on his skin. He reached down to kiss her and she allowed herself to close her eyes. She lifted his undershirt slowly, gently feeling a mix of scales, muscles and scars on the way up. She chuckled as she failed to get his shirt through his horns. Their mood resuming moments after when she gingerly pulled on the only lace holding her gown together. Akhutai reached down again and while they kissed he stood from the crate he was sitting at. He slowly turned her around before grabbing her by the hips and lifting her on top of the crates. She unbuckled his pants before laying her back on the crate, a pleased smile on her face.
She opened her eyes to find his glowing orange in the dark. It smelled damp, of wine and death. She found herself unable to move as Akhutai raised his hand, in it a silver dagger. He snarled as he plunged it into her heart.
âBLOOD FOR THE SERAPHâ
Priscilla woke up on a cold sweat, gasping for air. She was in Mallaâs room in the Prima Vista, fully clothed. Her journal and quill scattered on the floor in front of her. Was it a nightmare? Or a vision? More importantly, would she dare share itâs contents with the rest?
