#entry 28

[viscerast]

the white inability to mind ur own fuckin business i did noy expect thar from you jessics

[fair-fae]

FFxivWrite Entry #28: Bow

FFxivWrite 2021 Prompt #28: Bow When her nights were sleepless--and they often were--X’unmei would grab her bow and a quiver of arrows, and quietly slip away to where in the daylight hours, the Twin Adders and Wood Wailers would train. It was not only the men and women in uniform she sought to avoid with her nocturnal sneaking, but her own tribe. She was clever enough to know that if the Lynx tribe was aware of the full extent of her skill as a markswoman, they would ride her even harder about how she need help out with hunting and security “for the sake of the tribe.” It was always for the sake of the tribe, and never for the individuals within it. It was often difficult to see by light of moon and stars, but that was hardly an obstacle for Mei. She nocked her arrow, opposite hand holding her bow steady as she drew her elbow back, pulling the arrow taut against the string and taking aim. She squinted through the shadows at the target, settling into her posture and stilling her breath. Effortlessly, her fingers slipped from the string and sent the arrow flying through the crisp night air. With a soft thud, its sharp tip embedded into the very center of the practice target; bullseye. @which-can-eternal-lie​

[grow1ng-gurl]

Entry #28

Day 80, and I’m 12 feet tall now. I’m more than double Evan’s height, and he’s just so sad about that. Also, my tits grew again. They’re like 2 to 3 feet in every way. It’s hard to tell, due to my size.

I can easily pick up Evan, but due to how much bigger I am, we have to do a bit of awkward moving around to make sure I don’t run him over. I’m really tempted to go visit Jessie again, just to scare her.

[alistair-phoenix]

Prompt#28: Attune

Carbuncle Bonding and You

This guide explains the intricacies of bonding with a Carbuncle.

What does the bond entail?

Bonding with a Carbuncle can be a long process depending on the one that wishes to establish the bond. Carbuncles are the only ones who can make this choice. If they do not find someone worthy of the bond then there is not much one can do.

Once found worthy of this gift, the bonding process can begin. The Carbuncle will attempt the bonding process with but a simple action. The Carbuncle's forehead jewel will glow and they will attempt to press it against the cranium of the one they are choosing to bond with. This will take a moment as the Carbuncle is attempting to synchronize with their chosen. After enough time has passed, the ritual will be complete and will have successfully bonded to the Carbuncle should no complications occur.

How will this affect you and your Carbuncle companion?

The bond of a Carbuncle and their companion is very delicate. Once bound, both Carbuncle and the one it is bonding with will attune to each other. Attuning to a Carbuncle will establish a link between them. Their lives are forever intertwined. Any pain experienced by one, the other shall feel it.

The mindscape between the two is shared. In other words, both can hear each other's thoughts. With some training, one can block out the other's thoughts from being sent to the other. Information is often shared between the two, making it much easier to synergize with each other. Both can also sense the other's emotions as well. Sadness, Happiness, Anger, etc. No matter the distance both can still communicate with each other through this link.

Though bonding with a Carbuncle has plenty of positives, there is something that makes both Carbuncle and the one they are bound to much more vulnerable. If one shall perish, so, too, does the other. So it is in their best interest to protect each other and keep each other safe. There is also the chance that the Carbuncle will age slower depending on the age and lifespan of their companion. They can become affected by those with longer lifespans and even immortality.

~1~

[housealderscorn]

Entry #28: Rivalry

(This entry features two of my characters, Raven and Magalie. I will post the story here @housealderscorn, as per usual, and reblog at @stab-sister for posterity.)

Jerome was hoping he could drop off the weekly books and hurry off without having to speak with her. A problem deferred, he figured, was better than being immolated today.

“The Lady is in. This way if you please,” said the servant that opened the door. So much for putting off the inevitable. Perhaps she would be in a decent mood and be disinclined to blame the messenger for ill news. Hells, she could even miss it altogether!

“What is this?” Magalie stabbed a page with a long, red fingernail, carving a little crescent moon into the paper. Her silver eyes were impossible to read but her tone was clear. Jerome did his best not to wince but found it difficult not to do so under the scrutiny of her gaze.

Jerome sat his tea down before speaking, not trusting his hands to remain still. “Ah, yes, well that...that is reduction of estimated profit,” he said.

Magalie blinked slowly but otherwise remained still. “I can see that, Jerome. Do you know how I see that?” She lifted the book and face it to him, still pointing at the page like someone reading a bedtime story to a child. “Because THIS number is smaller than THIS number!” Magalie stabbed at two different figures before dropping the ledger onto the desk. “The implied question is WHY?”

“W-well, there was a counter offer, evidently, that was lower and we had to lower our price in order to keep the sale,” he said.

Magalie closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Tell me one more thing I already understand, Jerome. Please continue treating me like a fucking idiot. I honestly have no idea what I will do to you and I have to admit, I’m rather curious.” Lacing her fingers together slowly and setting her chin atop her hands, Magalie peered at Jerome silently. He had the sudden image of a spider waiting for a fly to come too close to a web.

He collected himself, taking a deep breath. “There’s a new company. Run by a Northerner - A-an Ishgardian. Here!” Jerome remembered the folded piece of paper in his chest pocket and he unfolded it hastily, ripping a corner. “I took the liberty to find a bit more about them.”

Magalie took the dossier and scanned it as Jerome continued. “They typically work between Ishgard and Gridania and occasionally Limsa. B-but lately, he’s been...branching southward and offering competition in Ul’dah.”

After a long, chilly moment, Magalie refolded the piece of paper, neatly pressing the seams with her fingers. “I’ll handle it,” she said quietly. “Tell the port master to turn away any future cargo from this company.”

Jerome blinked, “I...I don’t...I don’t think he would be very...agreeable to that idea.”

Her chair shot backwards against the wall as she suddenly stood, balling up the dossier and throwing it at Jerome. “He will do what I bloody well say or kiss my…”

“Arson? What do you mean?” Asked Raven. “Ah,” he held a finger up to Lucien, “Please don’t say ‘that means a fire, m’lord’.”

Lucien, who’d been about to say exactly that simply shrugged. “It’s all there in the port-master’s report. He claims the cargo contained unstable materials that caused a fire. He refuses to accept anymore deliveries from us.”

Raven rubbed his temples and sighed. “Fury’s sake.”  The chair groaned as Raven leaned back. He had a habit of chewing on the inside of his lip when he was deep in thought and he did so as he stared out the window.  Swiveling his chair back to Lucien, still standing dutifully at the office door, he squinted. “How many other shipping companies run out of Ul’dah?”

Lucien gestured with his eyes to the second folder he’d already placed on his desk.

Following his eyes, Raven lighted upon the folder and opened it, scanning the pages. He snorted heavily and his arms drooped to the floor with the paper still gripped in his hand. “That…”

“Bitch!” Magalie hissed, yanking her hand from the white oldroses she was arranging in a vase.  Once she plucked the thorn from her thumb, she watched a tiny globe of blood form, pinching it slightly.

“Should I get a plaster or…” asked Jerome already turning to leave the greenhouse.

Magalie brought her thumb to her lips and scowled, swatting at the air. “Quit stalling and come out with it,” she said pulling her mouth momentarily from her thumb.

His hopes of escape dashed, Jerome continued. “Ah, yes. It seems that your, um, conversation with the port-master has proven fruitful in that matter. No shipments from…” he checked the manifests, “Alderscorn Imports have been delivered.” He winced. “To the docks.”

Her silver eyes raised to meet his own and he could swear the temperature had dropped.

“He, uh, well he seems to have found port elsewhere and made the delivery via…”

Magalie raised a single eyebrow.

“Chocobo. A convoy of them.”

Jerome preferred the yelling to the silence. When Magalie went quiet, you were never sure what would be on the other side of it. She picked up the rose that she’d stuck herself with and put it with the others in the vase, arranging them until she was satisfied.

She approached Jerome and raised her hand in front of his face. She was pinching her finger against her bloody thumb hard enough for the tips to go white. Slowly, she released the pressure and opened her hand, holding her thumb inches away from Jerome’s eyes. A quick glance showed him that the blood had stopped flowing, leaving only a smear of quickly darkening red, and a purple pin-point hole.

“That’s how you deal with a little prick, Jerome. You squeeze it until it stops.”

[davina-wolfthorne]

Entry #28 - Little gills

Twenty-eight writing prompt [Rivalry] for FFXIV 30 Day Writing Challenge

Only six years old and she has already been in her first fight. Davina sits on the edge of her bed with small arms crossed over her chest. Stormy seas of azure glare outside at the warm sunny day. It’s summer and so beautiful outside but she is confined to her room. For the first time in a while the Garleans have stopped hanging around the Wolfthorne homestead, and it allows the family to finally breathe a sigh of relief. So without the pressure on her father and mother things seem decent. Karoline is singing again and her father laughs more.

Sensitive ears listen to the door hinges squeal when the door is nudged open. Karoline stands in the threshold to study the furious six year old in silence. “What did Danica do this time?” The mother of three questions curiously. Danica and Davina never have been close. There is always this incredible unspoken tension between the two. Maybe it is because Danica is the eldest daughter and Davina is the youngest. So there is that whole alpha omega relationship. Their little squabbles and bickering never escalated to the point of physical violence. Now two of her three daughters are hurt. Davina with a busted lip and bruised jaw. Danica surprisingly isn’t unscathed. Her youngest child managed to break her eldest daughter’s nose. 

“She’s being a Goobbue butt.” Davina mutters dryly. “I went outside to swim with Mal and...” Hoping off of her bed she runs over to the window and yanks it upward only to scream outside,” BUT THAT GOOBBUE BUTT HAD TO RUIN IT!” From her window she glares at her eldest sister whom sits in the backyard with a bloody rag held up to her nose. Danica begins to yell up but the window is slid shut quickly. Karoline stands at Davina’s side. 

Lightly her hand smacks the back of her youngest child’s head. “Takes a butt to know a butt, little gills.” Karoline heavily sighs. “So she ruined you spending time with Malena and that provoked you?”

Rubbing the back of her head where her mother’s hand connected Davina grumbles,” Danica frozen the ground under my feet while I was running over to the swimming hole. I fell and it hurt. She sat there and laughed until I ran over....” She pauses and the slightest of grins touches her small mouth,” then she wasn’t laughing anymore.”

Pinching the bridge of her nose Karoline murmurs several incoherent words. “Alright young lady what you’re going to do is wash up your face then you’re going to take an ice bag to your sister. Apologize to her....” “BUT MAMA!” “Don’t give me that sass! You will say you’re sorry! Now off with you. I don’t want to see your little butt out there playing until you apologized to Danica. Understood?”

Sulking over to the door Davina grumbles,” yes mama.”

[fair-fae]

FFxivWrite Entry #28: Irenic

FFxivWrite 2020 Prompt #28: Irenic Masterpost There was a commotion along Pearl Lane. That was, of course, an everyday occurrence. Hardly anyone batted an eye, save for the crowds forming to watch and cheer on whichever party caught their eye, and maybe, just maybe the Immortal Flames if the brawl lasted for long enough that they would deign to interfere. Today, however, X’unmei was running errands in Ul’dah, and thus the natural balance of the city was disrupted when she heard the sounds of raised voices and rounded the corner to witness the sight of punches being thrown. The Seeker of the Sun’s feline ears shot up, eyes going wide. While the crowd began to form around the two brawlers, would-be heroes readying their weapons for their valiant attempts at stealing the spotlight and heckling spectators alike, the tiny Miqo’te wriggled through the throng of people gathering around the fight and stumbled perilously right out into the fray, arms outstretched in front of herself and palms facing outward, fingers splayed. “H-hey, wait, don’t fight!” she stammered out a plea.

[fair-fae]

Entry #28: Still The Same

FFXIV 30 Day Writing Challenge Prompt #28: Rivalry She trained with her rapier for bells, until her body was drenched in sweat, her throat was parched, and her muscles refused to move. She dragged herself instead to rest--that is, to rest her body, but not her mind. After a relaxing bath and a cup of tea to recuperate, she was locked away in the quiet solitude of her office, poring through tome after tome. History, studies of aether, theories of various schools of aetherical manipulation and magic, battle tactics and combat, Faye made her way through all manner of subjects, reading the text and committing it to memory, jotting down notes and her own thoughts and question in her notebook all the while. She worked through the night and into the wee bells of the morning, cup after cup of tea along with sheer persistence keeping her awake, even as her body began to ache and her vision grew fuzzy. Eventually, even with the caffeine she couldn’t fight through the fatigue anymore, try as she may, and she fell asleep leaning forward upon her desk, cheek smooshed against the pages of an open book like a pillow, physically and mentally exhausted. Next time, she wouldn’t let him criticize her. She wouldn’t let him point out her mistakes, tell her she had more to learn. She would wipe that condescending smirk off his face. His stupid, dangerously handsome face. Maybe the more things changed, the more they stayed the same. ( @of-darkness-and-dreams )