Dec 12, 2021
I’m your judge, jury, and executioner. You’ll pay for your sins. / non-rp do not reblog.
seen from China
seen from Argentina
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from South Korea
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from China
seen from China
seen from Italy
seen from China
seen from Sweden
seen from China
seen from Sweden
seen from China
I’m your judge, jury, and executioner. You’ll pay for your sins. / non-rp do not reblog.
“The snake stood up for evil... ...in the Garden.” 🐍
Henlo, I’m Era and this lovely naga is the Lamia Queen from Final Fantasy II. Would you care to like/reblog if interested?
🐍 This is a side blog.
❝ Move bitch, I'm joining your party. ❞ - Ricard Highwind, probably.
Does anyone actually remember Final Fantasy II? As in the real Final Fantasy II, not IV pretending to be II. Do you remember this jerk who decided to join your party without your say when you were stuck in Leviathan’s stomach? Yeah, fond memories right there. Do you remember how that bitchass dragoon just up and died on you toward the end of the game like every other guest party member? What was up with that??
Anyway, he was actually the first Highwind and reckless dragoon in the Final Fantasy series. Go figure.
independent ricard highwind from final fantasy ii, fussed at by glyph.
Heart-- Burning like fire in the night
Gently as she goes...
Time: Noon Period: Post FFII conclusion, Maria Aged 18 years Setting: Gaea, Fynn castle
Maria wasn’t one to sit in one place for very long. Remaining sedate made her feel vulnerable. While Princess--- no, Queen Hilda shared that same sentiment, duty forced them both to ignore their own whims for the sake of their people. So there she sat, robed in the violet and gold customary of her role as Lady-in waiting, attentive to her majesty’s needs. She positively loathed the position.
True, Maria was eager to serve her rebel-leader turned queen when she returned victorious from Castle Pandaemonium. But she did not see donning the gowns of a noblewoman as an option. Maria had not anticipated her being ‘persuaded’ to put her weapons, which she loved so dearly, aside in favor of a spinning wheel. Hilda had offered to use her influence to put her in a position more suited for her work against the Emperor, but Maria chose not to let the Queen trouble herself. Maria never was good at letting others help her, and she did not want her queen to stress herself overmuch for her.
It had been little more than two years since the fall of the Empire. Maria had recently come of age, and the pressure for her to marry was increasing. She could have had any eligible gentleman she pleased, and her final development into adulthood had left her almost as beautiful as her late mother had been. Places as far as Poft had heard the descriptions of the girl with hair like nightfall and the piercing black gaze. When she had heard the rumors about her alleged beauty, it made Maria want to wretch. She felt that sounded too much like the comely, heaven-like, unrealistic heroines told by mediocre storytellers. Besides, her attentions remained with the state of the world. Little else interested her besides politics, the way the people worked with each other. When she was approached by some lad or another, she found it to be distracting, thus causing her a degree of annoyance.
At the end of noonday audiences, and the court had disbanded until sundown, Maria went about her own way, wandering the halls of Castle Fynn. Anything to avoid cooping herself up in the ladies’ quarters until supper. She found exploring the castle to be vastly preferable to listening to the other court ladies go on about their business. The conversation was welcome at first, for she had found herself in want of regular female companions after spending so long among her male compatriots fighting the Empire. But it soon became repetitive, and the wanderlust developed from her travels soon took her over.
Her spelunking through the castle’s forgotten chambers often led her to discover relics from the past. Some good, others not. More than once, she had pried open a splintered door to release some undead monster that had spend the past two years nursing its hunger for flesh. Worse yet, sometimes Maria would find the bodies of Fynnian warriors still missing. That happened only rarely, but she was sure to see through the proper burial of the warriors they had shamefully forgotten.
This day, the walks through the lower halls of the castle were doing her no good. Her loneliness was stronger than other days, wondering after the well-being of her former comrades. Soon after the war ended, the pirate lady-captain Leila had set sail as the new Naval commandant of Fynn, and had only returned to Fynn four times since then. Maria hadn’t approved of Leila’s moral standing, but she was fond of the pirate captain nevertheless. Guy retired to a quiet life on a far-flung ranch, and was content . Gordon sat as prince regent alongside Hilda, married now, with a newborn son. Firion had become an officer for Hilda, serving as regent in Salamand in Josef’s place. Since taking the position, Maria had seen him less than anyone. She could not blame him, for he so dearly loved Salamand for reasons he would not openly express. But if he—if everyone was happy, Maria was as well.