#commend

[thepersonalwords]

Yesterday i was clever so i took the glory for me. Today HE makes me wise so i give the glory to HIM.

indonesia123

[fair-fae]

FFxivWrite Entry #14: Commend

FFxivWrite 2021 Prompt #14: Commend An imminent wipe Brave white mage, limit break three No commendations

[oh-take-this-longing]

Prompt 14: Commend

"Lady Azmerien," her teacher's voice was dark and smooth and she didn't know why that made her blush, but her eyes worked well enough that she could see that that was exactly what was happening to her reflection in the mirror over her instructor's shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," Adelaide began, bowing in deference to her mentor. "I know my movements were still stiff. I overthink. I stand still when I should move. I move when I should-"

Her instructor, a tall, slim, stern faced woman with dramatically arched brows, a pixie cut that drew attention to her high cheekbones, and who never smiled with her full mouth, only ever slightly with just the right corner of it, did exactly that.

"Lady Azmerien… Adelaide… no. I must commend you. I can see the dedication you've put into the art of the sword. And I assure you, it's just that. It is art."

"I-"

"You do still overthink. You do still sometimes move when you shouldn't and stay put when you should move, but I've been watching and I can see you're beginning to rely on intuition. Good. You know that knowing yourself and how your body moves is just one part of the equation. Knowing your opponent is just as important."

"Ah. Yes, well. I don't really--"

"Talk to other people? Yes, I'm aware. You hardly observe them either. You should. It's those observations that make the difference. It's a split second reading of another person and how they move and react that makes or breaks a sword match. All the same, I've seen a dedication and determination in you to succeed at more than just memorization of moves or doing what you think will look best to an audience. There's a love of the art there that many other students never develop. Good."

Adelaide wasn't sure she'd ever heard her instructor say more than six sentences to her before. She honestly wasn't sure the woman really noticed her at all… outside telling her, "Stop overthinking, Azmerien!", "Are you rooted to the earth as a tree? Move, Azmerien!" Or "Oh my. Is the wind so strong it's blowing you away? Stop hopping around, Azmerien!"

"I uh…" Adelaide responded, flustered. "Thank you."

The instructor nodded, gave the 19 year old noble a courteous bow, and began on her way out of the courtyard.

"Wait!" Adelaide called out. "How? How do I observe better? How do I understand someone better in combat?"

The instructor turned around and answered. "You dance with them, Adelaide. And pay attention. Dance is an art too. Everything we do that matters is. Go to those dances you avoid. Leave the wall where it is. And ask someone to dance."

"I...um…"

The teacher began to turn around but Adelaide's voice stopped her once more.

"Will you dance with me then?"

The permanently arched brows rose higher and the teacher turned back to face student. "You want to dance with me?"

Adelaide put her shoulders back, lifted her chin proudly, and said, "I want to defeat you the next time we spar."

The instructor laughed, genuinely, a sound Adelaide had never heard before. And on her face was a smile. A real one. Both sides! She stepped closer to Adelaide and reached out a hand to her.

"Then let's dance, Azmerien. Let's see just how quickly you learn."

[thevoilinauttheory]

Good Grief

[ FFxivWrite2021 Prompt 14: Commend ]

[ Content Warnings: death, grief, somewhat descriptive injuries and medical procedures regarding said injuries ]

[ A continuation of this prompt from a long time ago! And further history of the event in this answer here! ]

==

He had stumbled back into Falcon’s Nest, barely alive with his brother attached to his shoulders, feet dragging behind him - a trail left in the snow. The camp was there to greet him, tripping over themselves to help their comrades - he was thankful so many of them had survived the attack, even if it meant running to save their hides. He didn’t get to say anything before his vision betrayed him, the pain of his shattered arm and the wood stuck under his barefoot truly caught up to him when he crumpled onto the ground.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he awoke, it felt like days. He groaned as he sat up, eyes blinking to clear his sight. “Maximiloix! Finally awake, I see.” A medic had stepped in to check on him. “I guess that means we can go over some things together.” She sat down in a chair beside the cot he was assigned, flipping through papers of his treatment plans. Though her face was somewhat solemn. “First, I’ll say congratulations - many of your unit have given you high praise for felling a dragon with a broken arm, hand, *and* foot. Not to mention carrying your brother all the way back on your own.” “...” He didn’t like where this was going. He let out a labored sigh. “What’s second.”

“Second… I wish to give my condolences. Alderic was not as lucky as you, and his wounds were too great. He was long gone by the time you had arrived.” He grit his teeth, trying to keep his cool - what was he going to tell his wife? That he couldn’t save her brother, one of the only friends he had, his *own* brother. “Third, I would like to go over your injuries with you. We were able to set your hand right, and it should be healed within a few weeks to a moon if you keep it from further harm. The pieces of wood in your foot were difficult to get out, and we had to put you under for a bit to extract them - walking is going to be hard for a long while, as we had to cut into the foot itself. Lastly, your arm… we tried our best, but it seems our best wasn’t enough. We couldn’t get it to set properly due to how splintered and shattered it was, and… I fear you will not be able to hold a weapon in that arm again, not without seriously injuring yourself.

“H- How am I s’posed t’feed my family? I have three children, I can’t- I can’t jus’ be without a job!” “I’m sorry, there isn’t much we can do… your commander will see you honorably discharged from your service, as well as money for your kill.” He tried to run his hands through his hair, holding back tears, when he realized it hurt too much to, he hung his head. “I don’t want th’damned money, I want my brother.” She ignored the statement, there really wasn’t much they could do - not for an emotionally broken man, and certainly not for a dead one - and she stood up to pat his shoulder. “We’re going to get you some pain medication, and your brothers-in-arms will be in to visit you shortly to celebrate your success.” She smiled softly. She knew that wouldn’t help him in the slightest. He pat around his clothes carefully for something, surprised they didn’t clear out his pockets during their operations. He pulled out the small talisman that he had taken from that dragon’s corpse, staring at it as if it’d heal all of his wounds. Now he wondered… if it was all worth it, if everything they were fighting for was even worth saving - he couldn’t think like that, though, not with a family to take care of. When he heard the cheering of people outside of his door, he quickly shoved it back into his pocket.

Next he knew, there was a tankard in his hands - his comrades truly happy about his survival, truly wishing him the best knowing that he would not be coming back. He didn’t want any of it.

[theshroudwolf]

Prompt 14: Commend

"You truly are my daughter, Elphanse," he finally said.

The embrace from his daughter was welcome. And in that moment he had come to realize how few ane far between they had been. There was no doubt he loved Faustine and mourned her passing, but the rift in the family had begun to close and the similarities between father and daughter were far more than either had realized.

"Elphanse..." He pulls a book, the same one with various family names in it and took one, a specific one out. "It's purely a personal symbolic act, but it's one which instills a sense of wrongs finally done right against those who consider our house weak or irrelevant. Please, when all is said and done, I leave the symbolic burning of another of the enemies of our House removed, to you." Handing her a page with various names they both know painfully well, their House Arms and name, House Lemmieux.

"Mayhap it add an additional sense of closure you yearn for as well." He reaches out and embraces his daughter once again and places a fatherly kiss upon her brow.

@eaotheelf mentioned

[hiraethwyl]

commend

He had to commend whoever had done it, be it Okuni or Idristan and Talan, or all three, perhaps, he couldn’t be entirely sure. Either way, they’d made good on their promise to place one of the small aetherytes Edarien commissioned at the bottom of the Ruby Sea. The cool damp of that underwater cave radiated back to him when he felt along the pathways of the aetheryte he held in his own hands. 

Good. 

The Keeper quickly scribbled on a piece of paper, folding it and handing it to the girl at the front desk of Priarch. He still had the foresight to leave some hint of his movements, even if he continued to do the thing anyway. It was a half measure, at least. Considering everything, he still felt confidently sensible.  No more had he retreated to an empty room than he activated the teleportation that would bring him a thousand malms below the water. He had sealed the pools, but he could unseal them too. Reacquaint himself with their workings. And perhaps a tentative feel about for whoever had used them as bait would not go amiss either. He was not entirely sure which was the stronger magic, fae or fate, but he was going to find out.

[chocoblep]

#14: Dancing

Forward. Back. Left. He’d done the steps many times now, and with each iteration he grew more sure, more comfortable with the movements. Akira had been at this for hours, and he was tired and hungry, but he was so close to perfection that he could taste it. It had been a long and arduous journey, but Papa had finally let Master Inagawa give Akira a preview of what it would be like to train with him.

Back. Forward. Right. Keeping his feet in a tight area was difficult after training in Kendo, but he made it work; after all, the best samurai were adaptable, and the best shinobi undetectable.

Master Inagawa mirrored his movements, the picture of poise and grace, and he looked down upon Akira with a discerning eye.

One arm sweeping up, and then back down. Tail swishing as he spun on the ball of his foot.

“Good,” his teacher said, moving to his side. “Next time, you will dance with a partner. You will learn to copy movements and affectations.”

“But I thought being a shinobi was about sneaking around and being really fast in a fight,” Akira said with a little frown. “What does dancing have to do with anything?”

“Nothing,” his teacher replied. “And everything. Dancing is a bodily expression, and no matter how well we try, it is very hard to copy the exact motions of someone else. To accomplish this, you train your eyes and your limbs to imitate other things. The pose of a man considering a purchase. The intention of movement of a teahouse server.” His instructor paced a circle around him as he spoke. “Dance teaches us to be acutely aware of our own bodies and the way they move, and how to move them with the sort of precision required to affect a different personality.”

Akira looked up at Master Inagawa, frowning. “So I am learning to copy other people really well?”

The pale Raen looked down at the boy and smiled. “Yes. And by learning how to copy other people really well, you are learning how to sneak around and disappear.”

The boy made a face. “Wait, so you don’t just vanish in a poof of smoke? You’re actually just pretending to be someone else?”

“And if you do it well enough, they never notice you,” the man replied.

Takahane, who had been watching this exchange, smiled. For a boy like his son, the glamorous was attractive, and learning that there was no magic involved in the shinobi’s disappearing act was sure to dissuade him from the art.

Instead, Akira got a big smile on his face. “That’s so cool! You disappear without actually disappearing!”

The shinobi looked to Takahane with an expression on his face that clearly read, I tried to make it as boring and repetitive as possible. Takahane sighed softly, tipping his chin downward in the barest of acknowledging nods. They had lost this battle.

“What else can I learn?” Akira asked insistently.

Master Inagawa laid a hand on the top of the boy’s head. “Soon, my boy. Stay diligent studying the sword, and you will learn all there is to know about the art in time.”

[miss-biophys]

You know it’s time to take a break from writing a scientific proposal when you want to commend yourself about aquiring new skills, and instead of “I mastered…” you write “I mustard…”.