#>ask box things.

[veranisaacs]

Veran wakes up in complete drag at the saucer and my, my! Doesn't he look FABULOUS! When Veran wanders into a raging crowd, a drunken Highlander suddenly drags him behind the nearby staircase and starts a game of grab ass. What happens?

He wasn't sure how he always got roped into these situations. Oh, right. He knew exactly how. Schala. Schala was how he always got roped into these situations. The Miqo'te heaved a sigh, adjusting the corset a little as he made an effort to make the outfit a little more comfortable. It didn't really help much. There was a sigh as he swept his bangs back out of his eyes. Was it just him or were heels kind of hard to walk in? He was pretty sure they were just difficult to deal with in general. Skirts really didn't help matters either, as properly demonstrated when he caught the edge of the skirt with one of those heels and was sent flying forward and into the chest of a male highlander in front of him. The arms closed around him (one specifically resting on his ass and giving a squeeze) and he was feeling some measure of panic sink in. The heavy stench of ale didn't really make him feel any better about the situation as he was pulled back behind one of the stair cases. More pings of panic as he was pressed against the wall, pinned between it and the drunken highlander. The others lips were pressed against the diminutive Miqo'te’s neck, kissing upward along it.Waves of panic still intensifying as those hands started exploring, a knee pressing between his legs. "...Hm?... Looks like this little girl ain't what she appears to be. Aye, that's fine too. Yer a cute one - lass or lad regardless." The words were spoken against his neck and that was it.That was all he could take before his panicking went full out. This wasn’t funny or amusing to him in the least. He was smaller than the male pressed against him - much smaller. But that didn't mean he didn't have some tricks up his sleeve - or rather in the air. A small magitek bit hovered in the air, firing off a shot that skimmed right over the highlander's left ear and hit the wall, leaving a nice little hole. It was enough to cause the drunken man to back up a little and just enough to give Veran the opening he needed to run like a bat out of hell. He kicked off the heels and booked it as fast as he could away from the situation and didn't look back.He was never wearing a dress for anyone ever again. Not even if it was part of one of Schala's schemes. Never. Again.(...Unless she really insisted.)

[veranisaacs]

"What would Veran do if he impregnated Schala?" [IC Prompt]

The day started out relatively relaxed, working a bit on his projects. Some light reading here and there. In fact, he was in the middle of a rather nice little book when there was a sudden feeling of foreboding. He wasn’t sure what it was exactly that suddenly made his hair stand on end but as his door flung open he had an even worse feeling he was about to find out. Especially when it was revealed to be Schala, looking none too happy about something. There was definitely a death glare involved.He was definitely in fear for his very life and he wasn’t even aware of what he’d done yet. He immediately skittered back and away, dropping his book and ears pinned back against his head. He was going to die. He knew it. Whatever it was that had Schala upset was going to be the death of him. All 9 lives. Gone. Out the window. He was so screwed and he knew it.“YOU.”The word just cemented his fears. His death sentence. He didn’t know what he did yet and he was already regretting every second of whatever it was. Oh god, that was definitely a lance being drawn. “W-Wait. L-Lady Schala…C-Can’t we just talk this out?” The butt of the lance was coming at him. He ducked under his desk, wincing as he heard the lance do some sizable damage to the furniture. Veran felt himself getting pulled out from under his desk by the tail before she suddenly moved to grab the collar of his shirt staring him down with what was probably the scariest stare he’d ever seen in his life.Speaking of which, that was flashing before his eyes about now.“…Pregnant. You… You got me pregnant.” His thoughts just immediately stopped. In fact, he just completely froze stuck in this odd sort of disbelief and incredibility. There was no way she just said what she thought she said. He misheard. He had to have misheard. He tried to speak up to ask her to repeat herself. The only thing that came out was a tiny squeak.“Wha…”“…You heard me! I’m not going to repeat it!” He let himself be shoved back, staggering into the damaged desk and swallowing as he stared at her. He still wasn’t entirely able to believe what he was hearing. This was… Well, he didn’t even know what this was. But there were now so many questions racing through his head that he didn’t even know where to start or what to do. Was he supposed to apologize? Is that something you can just apologize for? What were they going to do? The mere idea of being a father had never even occurred to him before. The idea wasn’t… well, he didn’t think it was a bad idea. Thought. Concept. He wasn’t sure it was something he was ready for now though. And with Schala? Well, he supposed it wouldn’t be so bad with Schala. Maybe. What? He was going to try to pretend that thought hadn’t just occurred to him like that.

“What…What do we… do…?” The lance was slammed into the wall just above his head. He whined softly.

  He never asked for this.

Death probably would have been a mercy at this point.

[[ schalahart ]]

[veranisaacs]

✖ Repressed Memory

A tiny hand reached up to try to grab the crimson hair that fell just outside of his tiny arm’s range, though the female holding him paid not mind to this. She was clutching him close to her chest running as quickly as her legs would carry her through the small camp. There were muffled sounds - a mixture of shrieks, the twang of bowstrings, war cries and screams. He was entirely too young to make out exactly what was going on yet it was too clear that there was definitely something.

The woman holding him tripped clutching him tighter against her chest as they fell to the ground to protect his small body with her own. There were several footsteps approaching behind her and she was practically trapped. She glanced around wildly, looking for something, anything - and she found it. A small space between the roots of the tree she’d fallen near and the ground, carefully placing him inside. No sooner had she started to pull back from him that her eyes widened, the sharp tip of a spear through her chest and only inches away from his face. The Ixali pulled the weapon from her chest before proceeding to plunge it back in again - as if to be sure. It had pulled back to attack again before suddenly being buffeted by a sudden gust of what seemed to be wind and away from the two Miqo'te.

He wasn’t sure what was happening beyond to the Ixali, his eyes focused on the woman laying before him. She was no longer moving, simply laying face down on the grass that was quickly becoming soaked with blood. A tiny hand reached out, crawling slowly out towards her. He reached to tug gently on her ear - there was no major movement from her.

After a few more moments a man knelt beside her and examining her before shaking his head and picking the tiny Miqo'te child up.

“…She’s beyond what I can help, kid.” The man stood, still holding the child before looking down at the glowing companion. “…Come on, Aether. I believe it would be unwise of us to linger here.”

The carbuncle simply gazed up at the man and the small Miqo'te seemed momentarily dazzled by it. There had only been a few steps before he realized he was being moved away from his mother, suddenly letting out a cry and squirming in the man’s arms. He was promptly re-situated in the man’s arms.

“…Look, nothing can be done. There’s more of those creatures about, you know. You might want to tone it down.” The man picked up his pace as he spoke.“…We’ll come back tomorrow, see if anyone is left. Anyone to take you in. But I’m not a hero, boy. I’m not fighting more of those damned Ixali to save some tribe of wild Miqo'te. No matter how much you cry at me.”

[veranisaacs]

TMI Tuesday: What is the one thing Veran wants more than anything?

It was an odd question. What he wanted more than anything…? He supposed everyone probably had something and the more he thought about it, the more embarrassed he got over what he knew was the answer. He couldn’t stop the blush making it ways across his cheeks or the ears drooping in what was very obviously embarrassment. 

“I just…I want to be useful. I just… I want to have a purpose and be important…” 

The Miqo’te’s words were quiet and there’s obvious shame in his tone. It seemed to him like such a stupid and pathetic thing to want but he’d honestly found the further he goes in life the more ‘stupid and pathetic’ seemed to make up what he was at the core. He hated that.

“…I don’t want to be anyone’s burden and I don’t want to be the huge screw up that can’t do anything to help others.” 

Emerald green eyes stared hard down at his own lap not really feeling able to look up. He felt like most of what he was saying was saying that he didn’t want to be the person he was. 

He hated being such a coward. He hated screwing up when he tried to be helpful. He hated a vast majority of what he was.

What he truly wants more than anything else was to be someone worthwhile. Someone dependable, that could be counted on. Someone that was really worth other people’s time and someone that really made a difference in people’s lives. 

But he also felt rather certain that the one thing he really wanted wasn’t something someone like him could ever obtain.

[veranisaacs]

What if Veran and Nej'a got each other's names tattooed on their asscheeks?

There were two immediate thoughts that sprang into his mind as he came to consciousness, groaning softly. Those thoughts were something along the lines of ‘My head is killing me.’ and ‘…So is my butt…’. Sure the headache wasn’t entirely anything new - he’d had plenty of those in the past. But his rear stinging like a bitch was definitely a new one. To make matters a little worse, he couldn’t even remember the night before.

Oh, he remembered drinks being involved. He knew he shouldn’t have indulged - his alcohol tolerance was laughable at best - but it really seemed like fun at the time. A few tankards and everything went dark after that. The lack of memory didn’t make him feel any better about the situation. He needed to know what he did but he was really too embarrassed to ask any one. Regardless, there was still the matter of his stinging and sore buttcheek. That was still a thing that hadn’t gone away. He figured it might be a good idea to check on this.

The Miqo’te shifted a bit almost dismayed at the fact that he clearly wasn’t wearing pants to begin with, trying to get a glimpse of his own butt. There was something there amongst the redness - ink? Yes, definitely ink. There was something tattooed on his butt and he couldn’t entirely make out what it was.Two questions now rang out in his mind: ‘Should I ask someone what this is? Or pretend there’s nothing there?’…

[veranisaacs]

What if Veran got a nice guy 'fedora' in the mail? :)

The Miqo’te was still staring at the odd hat long after theDelivery Moogle had delivered it. It was a rather odd looking hat, of that hewas sure. A little silly looking if he were being honest. There hadn’t been aname attached so he’d been spending quite some time simply staring at it andwondering who had sent it and why. It didn’t seem very functional – what purposewould it serve other than perhaps some misguided sense of fashion. Perhaps thatwas the worst of it. He knew he didn’t possess fashion sense and even he knewthis was a very affront to all things fashion-related. Not functional nor (atleast in his opinion) very fashionable. It would only get in the way, he wassure.

He picked it up, glancing at the chocobo lurking curiouslyover his shoulder at it before offering out to Locke. The Chocobo didn’t seemto know what the hell it was being offered this silly little hat for. He foundout a moment later when Veran plopped the hat down on Locke’s feathery head.There was a loud ‘kweh!’ as he felt the weight of something on him – why didhis person insist on trying to put things on him? Silly person. Didn’t he knowthat chocobos were not for putting things on? He laid down, tilting his head upto stare at the Miqo’te as if to ask ‘Why this?’. Locke shook his head after amoment and the hat tumbled to the ground.

Veran laughed as he picked it up, turning it over in hishands.

“…You don’t like it either, huh? Wonder who sent it?” There’sa pause. “…Wonder how much Gil I could get for selling it…” Locke just offered another ‘Kweh!’, tucking his head under his wing to sleep. The amount of fucks that chocobo gave were somewhere between zero and null but he knew one thing: If that hat touched his head again his person was going to lose a hand.

[veranisaacs]

Papalymo

Papalymo: Who is dearest to my character?

That would undoubtedly be Schala. In truth, he doesn’t know very many people and getting to know others is a very difficult thing for him to manage. Schala has allowed him to tag along and even if she is a bit rough at times she pays attention to him. He hasn’t really found anyone that he’s clicked right with since his adoptive father passed away but there’s something about her that feels almost comfortable - at least as comfortable as he’s managed to feel around others.

There’s also the fact that she has a large suit of Magitek armor which he found absolutely fascinating and the fact that she allows him to work on it is definitely certain to keep him around. Regardless of whether its just because she tolerates him or whatever else it may be, he definitely feels a bond towards her. He certainly feels an odd sort of loyalty to her, no matter what sort of threats she may send his way and it likely wouldn’t be easy to chase him off. Well, at least not chase him off permanently.