#anderism

[thatrhen]

Congrats to J'Manji Vaih and K'ren Tia!

Also: Good King Moogle Rhen!

[seirye]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY CUTIE! <3

THANK <3

[old-souldier]

Vanilla for Jordan!

Vanilla has a few connotations for Jordan. Her mother used to make a round cake (very similar to an angel food cake) with eggs, flour, and sugar, that smelled strongly of vanilla. It also reminds her of making that cake for her daughter as well (though Jordan will always say it's never as good as her mother's was). The scent is very much tied into her sense of family and the passage of ties between mother and daughter. 

[segolily]

Cinnamon for Manji and peppermint for Rei.

Cinnamon would be a tauntingly amazing scent for Manji, since alone it's wonderful, but not necessarily the best thing to eat on it's own..

Peppermint would frustrate Rei. The mint plant smells good enough on it's own, why add shit to it?

[segolily]

anderism replied to your photo:I FUCKED UP.

LOL Oko looks so annoyed.

".. Why am I green."

"IDK MAN. I'M TRYING TO FIGURE THAT OUT."

[old-souldier]

Laughter!

(Just so no one is confused, this is a blatant rip-off of  Blazing Saddles)

Twenty years ago, with the Indigo Squadron of the Lominsan Armada, Jordan found herself for the first time within the verdant copse of the Twelveswood and jewel of the forest Gridania...

At least that's how they out it to her. To Jordan's mind, it was filthy, pollen filled and the water too still and the sky too dark for her liking. She could hardly figure out how it could be to anyone's liking.

To make matters worse, her reason for being in Gridania was as a way-point. The Armada's true destination was trhe city-state of Ala Mihgo. In the throes of invasion by Garlemald, the Thalassocracy, along with the Sultanate, pledge support to aid refugees to flee the city-state as well as the neighboring Gyn Abanian countryside. in a pointed declaration, Gridania declined to offer any aid more than meager accommodations for soldiers on their way to the conflict. No food or other material aid. No place to resettle. Not even a godsdamned refugee camp, even though Ala Mihgo was practically next to the Shroud.

Jordan felt confused by this xenophobic vitriol. it seemed to run high in the street and it felt like anyone who wasn't Gridanian (sometimes it seemed the only way to be a "true" Gridanian was to be either Wildwood Elezen or Padjal, though the latter were hardly visible in the city proper).

One early morning on the day before the staging, Jordan was sent on a supply run by her commanding officer, Corporal Kennedy walked by towards the open-air marketplace. She walked by an old Elezen woman,l who carried a small bundle in her arms.

Tipping her cap she said, "Good morning ma'am," and smiled.

"Piss off, you good for nothing sea rat!" she spat and made her way down the path.

When she returned to where her Squadron was stating, she told the story to her commanding officer, Sergeant Peterson.

The Sergeant, a wry pretty-boy in his early thirties smiled sadly and said:

"What did you expect? 'Welcome, hon'? 'Make yourself at home'? 'Marry my daughter'? You've got to remember that these are just simple folk. These are people of the forest. The common clay of the Black Shroud. You know..." he paused briefly as he nodded towards the window looking back to the city square, "morons."

Jordan tried to stifle a laugh, but found herself snorting deeply before letting out a cackle along with the rest of her squadron.

[kiltia-blog]

anderism replied to your post: I keep seeing people say things about ...

Sometimes the audio sounded a little muffled to me, but I honestly think it added to the game’s charm.

yeah that's exactly what i was thinking...