#chocobrowrite2025

[valdiis]

Chocobros Write #15: Imagine

It was a bright, sunny day in Ishgard. It was even warm - or at least warm enough for just a sweater and not also a thick coat. The short summer months were waning and sweaters were back on.

Onaerion sat in his recovering garden and tilted his face up to the sun, basking in its warmth. The new gardener had done wonders already for reviving the neglected courtyard and garden. They would never again have the riot of flowers of his youth, but the hardy bushes and sturdier summer blossoms were pretty in their own right.

He closed his eyes and let his thoughts drift. As ever it seemed of late, they turned to his Garlean. His, as if he had any claim at all to the man. It didn't hurt anyone to imagine he did, though. They could sit in the garden together, drinking coffee and talking about anything at all. They had done so, in fact, several times over the last couple of months. That Quinn was away on his boss's orders shouldn't stop him from being here right now Rion thought petulantly.

"What's on your mind, my lord?"

The voice of his valet, Trevoix, interrupted his annoyance that he couldn't have his lover around any damn time he pleased. Rion's hazel eyes snapped open, only to blink a few times as he hadn't tilted his face away from the sun first. "Ngh," he said at first, feeling very coherent. "N-nothing of import. Why?"

"You've been tilted toward the sun like a flower for almost half a bell."

Rion blinked again, but this time he was looking at Trevoix. "I have?"

"Indeed, my lord. And I called your name twice. Egrianne has made lunch."

"Oh. Well. I'll be right in, then." He paused, glancing around the garden. "Actually, Trevoix... If it's not too much trouble, could you bring me lunch out here? It's too nice a day to let myself molder inside."

"I can certainly do that. I'll be back in a few minutes." The valet bowed and returned to the kitchen door to inform Egrianne.

Rion turned his face up to the sun and resumed imagining sharing his day with Quinn again. Suddenly, he heard his brother's voice in his head: "Oh, you've got it bad."

"Hmph." Blushing even though there was no one there to judge him, Rion put on his best grumpy scowl and watched the door for the arrival of lunch.

[valdiis]

Chocobro Write #16: Brew

In Thanalan, you could smell it long before you saw it: the storm starting to brew on the horizon. Vyth paused with his pickaxe resting on the rock as he lifted his head and sniffed the air. "Shite," he muttered. He glanced westwards - most weather moved in from the west - but there were no clouds yet. Maybe he had enough time; he could eke out a bit more amber.

Amber was one of the hardest gems he'd ever worked with, and that was because it wasn't a stone at all. He had to find it the hard way, the real way, and he had to shape it that way too. Because of the challenge, he loved working with amber. There was a goodly amount of it in Thanalan, not far from Camp Drybone (which he called Camp Wetbone on account of how often it was drenched in rain). Already his bucket held three sizeable pieces he'd wrenched from the dirt's grasp.

"One more," he said as he set to chipping away rock once more in search of fossilized tree sap.

That was a mistake. He got so caught up in mining that he forgot to keep a weather eye on the horizon.

The first crack of thunder startled him so much he nearly dropped his pickaxe on his foot. "Gah!" He bent to pick up the tool and straightened to look west again. Thick, tall, dark grey clouds boiled their way towards him. Lightning arced from within and thunder boomed.

Vyth looked at his bucket with still only three pieces of amber, but there was nothing for it now. Hastily, he packed his tools and scooped up his bucket. He set out for Camp Drybone at a light jog, but it wasn't enough. Half a malm from town, the skies opened up. Rain pelted the back of his neck and plastered his shirt to his body. "Shiiiiiite," he groaned as he picked up the pace a bit.

But it was just too late. By the time he reached the camp, he was drenched head to toe. He earned a dirty look when he stepped into the inn's foyer dripping wet. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I'll try not to make too much of a mess getting to my room."

The innkeep sighed. Vyth was certainly not the first to come in the door soaked by one of Thanalan's surprise thunderstorms. "Shoo," she said, waving a hand towel at her customer. "I'll clean up after you."

With a rueful grin, Vyth made himself scarce.