Your heart has been torn before, chipped and maybe even shattered. Some pieces will never be recovered, and you are shaped by the loss. But it can still be shaped into something tangible, something good, even with its flaws and imperfections. You don’t have to do all the work of rebuilding by yourself. Allow other hands to leave their fingerprints on the new heart you create from the remnants.
Like every time i see you i want to paint you, or sculpt you, hell I'd settle for a paper-napkin scribble. Like every time you turned your face towards the sun the stars move a little to try and recapture you in a constellation. I want to kiss your hair, your cheeks, the tip of your nose. I think my love is shaped like your silhouette.
Examples include Persephone, Ishtar/Inanna, etc... You are responsible, caring, brave, and more powerful than you probably realise. You are almost always beautiful. However, you are not very realistic, and you can sometimes be naive, depending on how the teller of the tale perceives you. You tend to be misunderstood, and interpreted in a wide variety of ways, but ultimately, you save the world with your actions, and you're a force of good in people's lives.
Hope you travel safe, eat well, and find joys big and small across the festive season. And yes being in Australia means I get to be one of the first to wish everyone else season's greetings and well wishes.
The camellia is symbolic for excellence, and really, would you accept anything less from your flower? You are a natural leader—you are energetic, ambitious, and passionate.
It is no wonder, then, that you are also confident, industrious, and successful. Power comes to you naturally, and you are deeply committed to always achieving, in a word, excellence.
Ah little kraken, bold are you. Restless sailor, dauntless fighter, lower your sword, let me see your shield. Ah, of course, they are but the same object. Oh wave-tossed ruffian, lend me some of your mettle would you? You have been struck by the sharpest of spears yet you still stand here proudly. But off your guard, elsewhere of the battlefield, you will find your spirit can parch others. Your words are but weapons crafted from your soul. Little lion, sheathe your claws, or the ones you love the most will suffer. You do not have to be strong all the time love, there’s nothing wrong with being soft. Vulnerability is not weakness, and if it were, what’s wrong with that? Strength is not always your greatest tool, your heart is good. Put down Excalibur, and use your words. You’ll find they will carry you much farther. Not everything in life is a battle.
FFXIV Write 2021 - Organised by sea-wolf-coast-to-coast.
Character: Tal Brook | Warnings: None
[ Challenge Information ] - [ Personal Prompt List ] - [ Art by Erion ]
Foster: verb, to promote the growth or development of
Refugees were unloaded like any common cargo, tossed onto the docks and left for someone else to carry to their next berth. Most had none, fleeing the wars that burned to the east of the seafaring nation. Many saw an opportunity in the fresh arrivals, swarming like gulls when the fish were gutted.
In the warmth of the afternoon sun, three privateers sat on claimed crates, ale cool in their mugs, making a sport out of the swarming gulls. The latest target, a Maelstrom officer, was chosen by Tal himself, and the heckling began each time the uniformed man attempted to approach a potential recruit.
“Don’t believe the speech! There’s no choice involved, and then you have the orders-” Tal began, yelling with the taste of ale fresh on his tongue.
“Not the orders!” His shipmates cackled together, familiar with the game.
“- and the floggings-”
“Not the floggings!”
“-and being held in service until your time is up, regardless of if your home is returned or family are found-”
“Can’t go home!”
“-so you should ask around. Go for a company, sign up a voyage at a time. Don’t start this new life in new shackles.”
“-new life in new shackles!” The three lifted their ales in a toast, drinking leisurely as the recruited approached in a huff.
“Now see here you damn privateering wretches, I’m trying to foster good relations with these people and you’re just-” Tal raised a hand as he spoke over the man.
“Like how you fostered good relations with us after Carteneau? And that’ll be Lieutenant wretch to you... midshipman,” Tal made a pointed look at the rank on the younger man’s shoulders, tone dripping with ire and dismissal.
