Here's my pinned post and i'm gonna add things as i find ideas to what should i say 🤍
(●'◡'●) I'm Alice and in this blog you'll see the pictures i take in-game followed sometimes by some poems i wrote.
(*/ω＼*) I'm portuguese native speaker so you might see some captions in my post in this language often, also be patient about some grammatical errors here and there
About my posts
O.O My pictures doesn't have a setted OC, i oftenlly change it to fit what i want for the message i want to communicate.
That said, here's some of the universes i will often portrait in my pictures:
The Gridanian Poets #gridanian poets
The Gridanian Poets is one of my most personal universes, blending emotions like nostalgia, melancholia, and grief into each visual story. Each photoshoot follows the journey of a different poet, with a unique emotional theme. For example, the very first shoot explores the feeling of the start of a journey and innocence, while the second delves into grief and loss. This series is a deeply introspective project, allowing me to channel my own experiences with these emotions into each image. Through this evolving narrative, I aim to create a space where raw feelings are expressed visually, inviting viewers into a world of poetic, emotional depth.
You'll find more pictures under this universe in the following links:
Gridanian Poets act I: The first poetress
Gridanian Poets act II: Kitsungi
Gridanian Poets: Virtual Angel
Machine Angel #machine angel
Machine Angel is my closest representation of an official original character, often used to portray my daily experiences within Final Fantasy XIV. This thematic blends my love for cyberpunk aesthetics with angelcore, creating a unique fusion of futuristic technology and celestial imagery. Through Machine Angel, I capture the contrast between the mechanical and the divine, reflecting the moments of my daily routine in the game. Photos and posts under this theme often feature short captions and self-portraits, offering a glimpse into my personal world, where tech and spirituality collide in an ongoing visual story.
You'll find more pictures under this universe in the tag #machine angel
Brain Melting
Brain Melting is a personal rant and a raw deep dive into my mind, it was the way to express my self and to blurt out some hidden emotions and stress. Each photo represents one feeling that i was able to let it out as the creative process went going. The photos are directly connected to the fragmented words that are draw into the viewer's eyes as they keep scrolling through the next images. This Photoshoot was honestly very important to me and i posted intended to also help others (and my self included) going through a situation like this to see that they are not alone and it's okay to feel the way they feel.
You can check the complete photoshoot clicking here!
New Gridania is one of my favorite maps in the game, i just love the fairy core vibes and in snow is just the most beautiful thing.
(reposting this cause i didn't liked how it looked at first and i decided to change it a bit)
FFXIVWRITES 2024 - DAY 2 - HORIZON
Complete ---- 1,567 words ---- Notes: I enjoyed writing this greatly, which for some reason makes me that much more anxious to share it. The first unselfconscious but purposeful piece of fiction in too long. I hope you enjoy this honest depiction of what that looks like.
Angeline affixes herself and stares out at the horizon. This one is clear and crisp, a delineation easy to see. This time, she’s outside of Vesper Bay, far but apparently not far enough from the Waking Sands. Minfilia happens to be there with her - something uncommon, like she got caught out by a sharp eyed senior for some Special Attention, Observations and Advice. When Minfilia says, “When you look at things so deeply, I can never begin to imagine what you’re thinking about,” it is with a little bit of a puzzled bemusement, like this is the first time a presentation has not brought the exact response expected.
Angeline affixes herself and stares out at the horizon. She is thoroughly bundled against the bitter Ishgardian cold - she hasn’t uncrossed her arms in hours, but she can’t bring herself to go back inside. She can see only a glimpse of it, and the slate grey sky against the granite of Abalathia’s Spine wrapping the city made the distinction one more of texture than of anything else.
“I think a lot about a lot, but if you have to ask I suppose what I’m thinking about now is how everything just about is supposed to be contained in either one half or the other.”
One Aymeric de Borel, who had at that moment only just approached her from behind holding two mugs of hot chocolate on a Haurchefant-flavored tipoff it would be sorely needed but who hadn’t yet opened his mouth, simply came to a stop next to her and considered. “Is it… truly everything?” He probed gently, with the air of one stepping lightly and gamely into the ring. When she seemed to make no move to reach out for the hot chocolate, he set it with some precision onto the rail in front of her. A brief expression of eye-rolling frustration, there and gone too quickly for it to speak to any real depth, scrunched her face and then passed. Another few long minutes passed, and Aymeric was just about to offer something again when Angeline said, “I know there are things that are supposed to - “
“ - be bigger than it, but when I’ve encountered them it still hasn’t been true. It’s still in one of either two halves.” Aymeric de Borel studied Angeline’s face, the set of her brow and mouth beneath their lovely softness. They had not yet had their third what they would go on to consider ‘date’, and Aymeric was still figuring out what precisely to make of this romance they were fashioning - and the kind of peculiarities he had begun to pick up on. Honesty, as ever, was his best quality, so he took a stab with, after a brief consideration, “if you spend so much time looking, it begins to narrow what you can find.” At his voice, at something in it that it ventured toward, Angeline’s arms lightly unwound, and she let a hand arc out and down for the cup, her palm already feeling its warmth -
Angeline affixes herself and stares out at the horizon. Her hand comes down on the empty red wooden railing before her. Kugane is swallowed in a cocoon of charcoal - the lights are just coming on at the wharf and will trickle up and up until the giant floodlights tear open the night, peel it back to reveal the red meat slab of Kugane Castle. The doorway and peephole into a tightly locked house of a nation. Despite the increasing lights, the set of Angeline’s mouth is tight, like against sickness, and she still carried the smoke of Rhalgr’s Reach in her nose and throat. “The few times I see something more, it doesn’t last long. It’s an illusion. Like it truly can’t exist.” The phlegmy rasp in her voice was half bitter by content, and it sounded so unfamiliar to her own ear it made her give a start that broke into full-chested coughing. She braced herself on the railing with both hands, hacking until she was bent almost double.
“Well I’m certainly glad you’re getting that out - “ came Alisae’s brash bark. She strode in and clapped Angeline heartily on the back until the fit subsided. “I really hope nothing’s catching…? We have a bit of a trip back.” Angeline recovered enough to catch her breath, shaking her head hard enough to swish. “Well then it won’t do to look so gloomy,” her erstwhile kouhai drawled, lifting her eyebrows in challenge. “Clouds the eye.” She squared up on Angeline’s left, bundling against the rail, and took in the disappeared horizon, obliviated into the fog. “Makes you forget something vitally important.” Angeline’s quick rasping breaths had slowed and steadied as Alisae spoke.
She swallowed as she studied the younger girl’s face, what she could see, the curve of her cheek and her giant goofy ear blocking most of it.
Angeline wished sorely that in that moment she could see Alisae’s eyes, but in that way both women were alone when Alisae said, “When you spend so much time looking that looking is all you know, what you’re looking at almost ceases to be.”
Angeline affixes herself and stares out at the horizon, doubled here, sea and sky as one. Waves lapping above clouds. Her last attack, surging light, was about five minutes ago. Another three until the next, until she has to strain with every muscle in her body and with seeming new ones every day to hold it in, the wings sprouting from her temple, wrists, and neck creaking as they thickened and ached.
They have so far refused Emet-Selch his final audience, dawdling rather rudely in his lair, Urianger not lowering his voice when he and Thancred exhanged some rather uncharitable comments about the architectural and civic design, their smiles only briefly losing their careful tenseness, quickly resumed. It took a lot of convincing for the Scions to let her excuse herself and walk alone (and, in fact, only threatening worked; Angeline honestly reminded them that not a one of them could do a thing to stop her). Her head ran mixed and clear - the sharp rays of the Light aether inside her slicing whatever she was thinking about in two before spinning her mind to something else until she caught herself like a thrown spinning plate. Her palms ached sharply and for a second she was certain she held that very plate in her hands, reflecting her or that insufferable other her back at her, until she relaxed her clenched fists and her nails slid cleanly out of the slits they had made, the wounds unbleeding and gently glowing. On her request, the Crystal Exarch once heaved a fondly aggrieved sigh and held his right palm over a light set in the Crystarium floor, scattering it into momentary constellations above them. “About three quarters of the constellations there were on the First can’t be seen from what remains of Novrandt,” he had murmured, half despite himself. He tried clamming up when Angeline rounded on him, and as always it worked only moderately well. “More than a few people make it a point to know and remember them regardless, to fill in the rest of the sky even beyond what they could see.”
Angeline caught here how his voice deepened, just a touch, speaking of two skies. A clear bell to recall him now. “A common kind of mission I share. Remembrance can fill an absence, hold it, fill it back in.” An irrepressible half-grin pried his lips - he couldn’t help it. “Make right. I wont allow it to be any other way.” Despite the twisting in her guts and the echoing gunshot ache in her chest his very memory brought a smile to her face. Like an unlucky wind, an over-spoken-of devil, as if he could detect the presence in her thoughts and couldn’t stand the answer, she felt the oncoming of their garrulous host. Her baited escort to a sorry excuse for a welcoming imminent, Angeline lifted her chin and surveyed once more the solid phantom city below her.
“A clear cut example of what happens when someone forgets,” Angeline declared right as Emet-Selch’s skirt swishes were audible, right before he was ready to sweep his arms open and utter some sparkling line he spent millennia thinking about how to deliver. She felt him see someone else as he took her in, even as his opprobrioric tirade spilled out, echoed out across the 1:1 scale doll city just for him, A Monument To Memory, Grand As Once It Was. Angeline wasn’t listening.
Angeline affixes herself and stares out at the horizon. She is on a ship to Eorzea, the first time she has ever been anywhere else than Exactly Precisely where she came from. Every fulm is a fulm further away, the world a fulm bigger. The horizon can’t come closer to her, can’t eat the space up and obliterate it, separate her up out of it fast enough. If she could fall into it exactly, hold sea and sky apart to place her and only her in the golden line where nothing else would intersect, she could reach the place her mind and heart would soar to, imagine, create and live only in fantasy, to experience it all but for real. A frigid spray of a wave up the prow makes her scream. It is swallowed by the sky.
everytime someone denies that Caitlyn is Asian an angel loses its wings PAINFULLY
gonna use that gun on one of u if I keep hearing these lies
edit: sorry to come back just to bitch and moan abt this but IT FRUSTRATES ME, yall will see a character this is very obviously a certain ethi=nicity or poc and if they arent given a horrific stereotype of that ethnicity/race or it istn explicitly stated yall will ignore it or swap their ethnicity with something that fits better into a different stereotype?? like sevika, she is obviously indian but yall saw she was a mean masc lesbian so you took "mean" and "masculine" and said "ah yes, this MUST be a black woman" woah buddy, you're implying a lot there ... and just cause caitlyn and her family don't talk with intense broken English and wear fetishized versions or traditional asian attire, suddenly no one can see that she is obviously viet or thai (or some other south-east Asian country at least), she has a British accent and isn't fetishized for her asian-ness and suddenly we cant tell if shes asian or not ?? its weird
