smile through the pain.

warrior of light (scholar) roleplay blog affiliated with isola radiale. residing in house 151.

[relansi]

“Mm? Me? Oh, no, I’m okay.” She’s quick to try and slap on a smile, and perhaps some might even be inclined to believe it’s genuine. “Just... lost in thought...!”

[relansi]

Thanks for participating in the event! As a reward, you’ll be able to use art of war up to five times daily. See you next time!

[relansi]

She stands clutching a small ticket on the steps of the art gallery, stunned and frozen at the winding street in front of her. Guests shuffle around her, disgruntled that she’s in their way, but she can’t bring herself to move.

[relansi]

when you’re so good at this ‘dying’ shit that if you could die while being dead, you’d be in prime position for it

[relansi]

errantkatana​:

You want to yell.

You want to cry. 

That this happened because you didn’t expect anything like this to actually happen. This place was the same hell you knew back home. You were trained to die. You were made, to die. YOU ALL WERE.

You should have known, you said you wanted to live to the masked men because you didn’t take them seriously. That you could handle whatever happened. 

You should have known, you said you wanted to die to the masked men because you so desperately hoped it would actually save anyone. 

Right. 

Because you can’t protect anyone.  

YOU CAN 

[KILL] 

OR YOU CAN

[DIE START OVER]

YOU CAN’T DIE.

[KILL] 

There’s wheezing, coughing, teeth bared and grinding, almost cracking against each other. The sad choking between tears and laughter. This was all so, so sick. 

Right, you faced off against yourself in the Mists. You couldn’t kill yourself, so you killed yourself. Cathedral benches dripping red. You’ve been scared of dying all along, right? No. You both saw fractals of time stretch into infinity, all the ways you could kill each other–kill yourself. 

What even determined who won? 

[x]

She expects the strange sounds, the mourning. Placing her hands gently on her lap, she watches with a soft frown. Wishing there was more she could do. That she could ease the troubles of the heart as easily as she can ease the troubles of maimed flesh. When tears turn to laughter, though, her brows pinch together. Concerned. Fingers curling into loose fists, grabbing nervously at the silken material of her dress.

Manic laughter in the face of tragedy reminds her of few people, and none of them are good. Her gut twists, uneasy, but she stays seated at his side, determined to see her promise through. Even should he lash out-- a fear she realizes is very much valid when he reaches to tear the monitor apart-- she reminds herself:

You are dead. The dead cannot die. Not when they’ve moved on.

She can’t be harmed, not anymore, but it doesn’t mean her ears don’t flatten back against her head, entire body tense. Steeling itself for pain like the snapping of her bones beneath the iron grip of the woman who sent her here in the first place. With a quiet, shaking breath, Winni bows her head and closes her eyes.

Either she will listen until he laughs himself out, or she will be there for him to let loose his rage. If she can help him, even just a little bit, then she will not move from her spot. Silently accepting the fate that this darkened void has laid out for her.

[relansi]

[relansi]

esperelle​:

     ‘Garlemald’.

     There’s that word again; that place. Terra, of course, doesn’t know this place personally but she has heard it before from someone else… Someone that explained it to her and the many similarities between it and the main cities and strongholds of the Gestahlian Empire. Though she doesn’t react much, a soft frown does begin to form onto the blonde’s features.

     ❝ … Neither, ❞

     ❝ I have never heard of either place before… But someone here has told me about Garlemald before, ❞ Terra starts, her expression turning more stoic as she reaches out to touch the piece of armour.

     ❝ … But it’s the same for me, too; how seeing Magitek Armour is never a good thing. ❞

She doesn’t want to intrude, and she can’t help but lower her hand when the other girl reaches up to feel over the armor. Tucking her hands behind her back, Winni nods. “I’ve seen magitek used for so many good things,” she says, absentmindedly feeling at her hearing aid, “I wonder... just how far it would have come by now if all that research, all those resources poured into warfare, had been devoted to bettering Garlean lives, instead.”

She pauses, then gives a soft, sad laugh. “But that’s a silly thing to say when it can be said of just about anything, right? A world devoid of war... that would be a world I’d love to live in, were it possible.”

[errantkatana]

errantkatana​:

THIS IS WHAT I WANTED, BUT WHY DO I REGRET IT? [OPEN] 

[i’m sorry] 

[i’m sorry] 

[i’m sorry]

[i’m sorry] 

A disheveled samurai sits in front of one of many of the screens in purgatory, lips forming words without sound. His hands cling to the monitor, grip threatening to break it. Eyes boring into the image of his own dead body, throat cut open. 

Forehead to the screen, he curls into it, vision so close pixels tear apart into a blur, hand clenching the ring on his necklace. Slowly dragging down, tired, weak. 

[i’m sorry]

[i fucked up, i’m so sorry] 

>”………………………………………………………” 

[relansi]

It almost refuses to sink in. That she is dead, and there is no coming back from it. Winni copes with an endless wander. Taking in the television screens, the void around her, and secretly praying that she will stumble upon a door to let her back into the world of the living. Her gamble has yet to pay off, though-- yielding no doors, but the guttural sounds of someone utterly devastated by his surroundings.

Winni looks up, and fingers curl into a soft fist at her side. Walking forward, stride silent in the dark, she sits wordlessly beside Zero, knowing that she is unable to offer any meaningful comfort, but hoping that her presence, small as it is, might be able to offer something-- anything. “If you want to yell,” she murmurs, “Or cry, my ears are open. Whatever there is in your throat, I can take it, if it makes it easier for you.”

[relansi]

danaravi​:

       he resumes his tread once the stranger is by his side— there is little need for caution in this case, given the circumstances. 

             ❝  … i fear it is not that simple.  ❞ he pauses thoughtfully, eyes forward, ❝  i do not recall the afterlife appearing quite like this.  ❞

“You’ve... been to the afterlife before?” She says, before quietly laughing, sad. “I thought you could only experience what comes after life once.” Still, she doesn’t question it. “What did it look like?”

[relansi]

danaravi​:

       with the exception of ritsuka and hakuno, few roam the empty space between life and death, as he has found throughout his endless wandering. he greets the soul with an even expression, answering calmly.

             ❝  there is no need for that.  ❞ he assures her, ❝  … but you are welcome to join me, if you wish.  ❞

       it’s as she said— death is lonely, and so the company is appreciated.

Clasping her fingers behind her back, Winni strolls forward to join the white-haired man at his side, eyes wandering in desperate search of something stimulating.

“I didn’t think it would be this... empty,” she says, after a moment. Bowing her head with a sad smile. “And here I thought the afterlife would treat those I once left behind well.”

[danaravi]

             ❝  … i admit, this is not how i intended to spend the upcoming holiday.  ❞ perhaps he’ll have better luck next year. 

[relansi]

“Mm. You and me both,” she says, approaching from behind, before she promptly apologizes, “I’m sorry for eavesdropping. Being dead is terribly lonely. You’re the first person I’ve seen since... well, you know.”

[relansi]

animasphere​:

   her gaze flickers to the fairy over the woman’s shoulder, head tilting in consideration. she pet cares for the master? she has yet to see if the being could be a nuisance or a hinderance to her plan. it would be better to get rid of the fairy right off the bat. decisions, decisions….

        it is when she feels something slam against her boot that her attention returns to the woman. did she really think that would work? yes, the pointed heel did pierce the material of her footwear but. well, that’s about as far as it would go. with her other foot she kicks the codex away, watching is tumbled, pages ripping before careening over the cliff edge. and with that same hand still wrapped around the woman’s wrist, she pulls. it’s effortless, lifting her up and over in an arc before slamming her body down onto the ground without an ounce of mercy. 

    her other hand shoots out to grab Eos, holding the fairy captive within her grasp. the tip of her foot comes to press against Winni’s shoulder, keeping her down. one tug and she could pop that arm out of its socket– tempting. but first–

           “ What does this creature do?” this being Eos. an answer is wanted, and quickly.

Not even a flinch. Winni struggles, reaching desperately for her codex before it tumbles out of view. “No--!” She cries, torn pages fluttering delicately in the wind between the clawed fingers of her outstretched hand. There’s no time to mourn the loss of the codex she’s carried with her since the beginning of her studies, the thousands of carefully jotted notes between each page.

She’s thrown to the ground so hard that the breath is knocked from her lungs. Mouth agape, wheezing, her ears press flat against her head at the sight of Eos struggling in the monster’s opposite hand. With a defiant shake of the head, Winni flicks her free wrist, echoing her earlier cry, breathless as it is: “No.”

The motion is all she needs to dismiss her fairy companion. There is no point in Eos suffering at her side. The fairy whips her head around, her free arm reaching back for Winni, eyes wide, but she vanishes within the stranger’s palm, leaving behind naught but the glittering remnants of the fairy’s magicks in the wind.

Winni winces prematurely, knowing there will be retribution, but if she can manage it, she’ll croak out: “Do what you must to me, not to her.”

[relansi]

animasphere​:

           it is often that pride and arrogance lead to ones downfall.

   she is reminded of that annoying mage within the mountain of the gods. how her plan had been ruined by his interference. backstabbing, is what one might call it. it is not worthy of mentioning– unforseen as it had been, it did not ultimately stop what had already been set in motion. just like this won’t stop what will be the inevitable outcome. 

  the flames feel like nothing more than a breeze. once again, she doesn’t bother fending them off. what harm can they do? but there is the smallest raise of a brow as she sees the air shimmers and something manifest. she must be expecting an attack. perhaps flames conjured out of nothing, or something of pure mana. it would be nothing to tear apart that barrier. a thousand armies couldn’t keep her out and this woman would learn that.

        her steps come to a halt mere inches from the barrier. she reaches out, tracing a fingertip along its surface, gaze flickering from her actions to the other’s expression. “ It’s strong.” this is not a compliment, words spoken as if she was speaking in boredom of the weather. one finger switches to a palm pressed flat against the barrier. it ripples from the touch and maybe, just maybe the woman thinks she stands a chance. 

               pressure is applied, slow and steady. the barrier begins to shake, to shudder before– it cracks. her hand passes through and it’s quick to grip the wrist of the hand holding that book with a strength that seems impossible for her body. “ You need a book to fight? Tsk tsk, humanity truly is hopeless.”  her grip tightens and something snaps.

Stand and fight. She has to repeat the command to herself, and though the other makes no motion aside from a forward waltz, there is something foreboding about her confidence. Reminiscent of foes she’s fought in the past-- and like those very foes, she’s not surprised to watch her barrier shatter. Though she grimaces some at how easily it fell apart.

Her lips part, eyes widening some at the grip that meets her wrist-- before her expression too shatters, and she looses a noise between a gasp and a quiet shriek. The codex falls, clattering uselessly at her feet. Winni tries to pull back, but it’s as though her arm is caught beneath a boulder. Eos extends her hands toward the wounded limb, not daring to get remotely close to the foe, but not willing to stray farther than just over Winni’s shoulder.

Her chain stratagem did not yield a single weakness. She doesn’t know how it’s possible. The Ultima Weapon, Hades himself, the mighty dragon Shinryu-- every single one lit up with possibility. But nothing changes against this woman, and it’s all Winni can do to attempt to slam her pointed heel down on her foot in the hopes of being released.

[relansi]

esperelle​:

     There is a lump that forms in her throat as she sees and slowly approaches the piece of machinery.

     It is not the magitek armour itself that causes anxiety to well up within the pit of Terra’s stomach but rather, the memories that it holds… Both the ones she and cannot remember. The memories of people screaming at her and calling her various things. 

     ‘You murdering WITCH!’

      ❝ … Do you know what magitek armour is? ❞ snapping out of her thoughts, the blonde now takes a few steps around the memory, looking at the familiar face nearby. It seems that she, too, regards the piece of machinery with a look of nostalgia, which makes the half-esper curious.

A soft, familiar voice stirs Winni from her thoughts, and she turns, her hearing aids once again whining softly at the other’s presence. She winces a little, a hand rising to adjust it-- not as bad as it was in their first encounter, but it’s still curious that they react to the other’s aether. Still, she smiles, looking between Terra and the machine, and nods.

“You don’t see them often in Eorzea, and... well, when you do, it’s generally not a good sign. But I’m familiar with them. Still, I’ve... never seen any of this particular make.” Claws run against steel, and she hums, soft. “What parts are you from?” Winni asks, assuming the other to be part of her world-- “Eorzea? Garlemald? ...pardon my curiosity.”

[relansi]

What can he tell them now? ‘ Sorry, I let you down? ’ ( Sorry, it wasn't quite true. )

[relansi]

animasphere​:

          hook, line, and sinker.

     were the creatures in this place always so gullible? or was this feline’s sense of morality so tightly aligned that the slightest hint of any wrongdoing was enough to steal her resolve? she is inclined to believe the former over the latter. eyes glance at the small fairy-like creature fluttering behind her shoulder. a pet, perhaps? a trusted battle companion? it makes no difference in the long run. not for the other woman’s fate, that is.

             “ I have to say, you’re so underwhelming I’m beginning to wonder if you’re just pretending to be someone great.”

   her words are colored in boredom, one eyebrow arching upwards, a picture of ease at whatever threat Winni is trying to impose. U-Olga Marie can recognize it is a form of magecraft this woman is using. but it isn’t enough. weak, pitiful, a sad excuse of a power. 

   she makes no attempts to avoid the spell. it hits as intended, making contact with her shoulder. energy crackles, arcs extending and flying, as if trying to penetrate deep to wound. but it becomes clear that the biolysis does nothing. not a scratch, not a scuff, not even a hair singed. this was no Sirius Light. there was no magecraft on this mist covered island that could hope to damage her. 

     the attempt does cause her to laugh.  “ Is that all you can do?” she raises her hand, gloved fingers unfurling. still, she does nothing yet. nothing except take one slow step forward. and then another. and then another.

Her breath hitches at the laughable lack of impact. Her curse, as useless as not having access to it at all. Still, Winni doesn’t falter-- holding her book out, channeling her energy the best she can into the glyphs on the page. Dress and hair swaying with the delicate magicks that dance around her.

She thinks to the times she’s fought alone. The times she’s stared a primal down in the face and fought back, living to tell the tale. Steel yourself, she commands herself, and lets loose the most potent of her offensive magicks. Plumes of broiling flames fly free from the pages of her codex, sea green eyes narrowed, watching her enemy approach.

Winni knows she won’t be able to fell this woman before she comes within range. With a wave of her hand, a murmur of incantation, she erects a magical barrier to absorb the woman’s inevitable attacks. Shields that withstood Ifrit’s hellish flames, Titan’s brute strength, Garuda’s wiles. “I’ve survived far more than you know,” Winni says, voice cold, proud.

With another sway of the hand, she lets loose her chain stratagem-- hoping, and praying it will unveil at least a small weakness to exploit.

[relansi]

animasphere​:

   why, why, why.

      that’s what they always ask, don’t they? curious creatures they were, though she suspects it has something to do with their deep desire to always have a reason, an answer to explain the horror. the pain, the suffering. sometimes, there was no answer. sometimes, it was done simply because someone felt like it. it was as black and white as that. no deep rooted desire, no want for revenge or anything of the like. questioning will get the woman nowhere. already she is wrong in her assumptions. 

         so, does she indulge her? play along and claim ownership for the death that happened here? it would prove for a more entertaining time. it would be nothing to crush her between her fingers. perhaps the illusion of a fighting chance might help make this worth her time already wasted.

       not that it seems like she has much fight at all. but she knows better than to let looks deceive her now.

   “ It wasn’t very fun. Honestly, I’ve seen lesser vermin put up more of a fight. I should have dealt with the nuisance quicker but their pitiful begging was like music to my ears.”

It’s in her very nature as a scholar. To heal, not to fight. But she knows after her long travelled road that the fight is inevitable-- that there will always be those who seek to do harm unto others, and that words will never be enough to quell every threat. Her face hardens, and she digs her heels into the dirt, Eos fluttering behind her shoulder. 

It’s all she needs to know.

“I can’t let you do this to anyone else,” she says, solemnly, steeling her will with the knowledge that Hydaelyn has always protected her. Alone or together, unharmed or on death’s door, she has always walked away from her battles to see another dawn. “There’s already enough in this fog,” she adds.

Winifred extends her arm, a biolysis curse rippling through her arm, knowing there is no other option.