#final fantasy verse.

[recitedemise]

@eikonslay asked: you know me. i don't let my guard down for just anyone. / PROMPTS FOR FEELING SAFE AND EXPRESSING COMFORT: still accepting.

"But when met with an exceedingly talented and exceptional mage, some exceptions are unavoidable."

Gale's chuffed. He wears it plainly, too, for evidently, he's entirely incapable of anything less. Yet, it works for him, he'd confess to her, with his heart sat embroidered at the cuff of his sleeves. The hyur's always been honest, as bare as those books he would humor at night, but with their world so shadowed and terribly fogged? Well, perhaps, he gathers, some transparency's refreshing.

Besides, it's nice to hear her warmth, something hungry in his marrow giddying to her words when it longs to leap. Yesha's fought for too long, hurrying to and fro between spats and wars. It's difficult not to brighten, to peacock at the gentling at her obvious weariness. Offering her her meal, its delicious scent wanders. Affording her some comfort is all a gift.

"That said, I'm sure a generous pinch of charm and a homecooked supper would only add to his chances." Gale smiles. "If you're here, I imagine that means the world isn't ending for once."

[recitedemise]

@sunfate asked: you are made of sterner stuff than the rest. but will it be enough?

He doesn't know what to say. Looking down at his winding tome, however, one might've guessed that an answer would've happened out his mouth by now. It'd have leant on unnervingly witty or perhaps so impossibly bare as to inspire sappy poems. Truthfully, Gale feels it leaning on the latter, whatever cobbling of phrases he's scrapping in his brain. To think, will all of his efforts truly be enough? Who's asking? Finding Tai, even raising lost kingdoms would stand so pale.

Roaring in his chest, his affliction rumbles.

"I suppose that would depend on what it is I'm being measured up to," Gale, bathed in the candlelight, carefully says. Something about tonight feels sobering, doesn't it? Before them, the cluttered table with his drink rests a quarter untouched. "If it's to prise the world from an untimely end, then were I to keep different company, to be honest, I would be inclined to admit that I'm more than doubtful. That said, I don't believe I've much to worry about on that front. After all, it's hardly just with anyone that I'm walking unto the breach." Laboring for a path to Ultima Thule itself-- Kissed softly by the fire, their hero's weariness screams. My, my my... "If it should be enough for you, however? Well, I'll spare no expense."

[recitedemise]

It's been a while since he's last felt at home. Of course, Gale would never spurn his city, not as its spires would scrape against the belly of the gods, but even with the wafting of the brine and the waters... Well, never had he before felt so dreadfully alone. To be fair, he'd done it to himself, they would tell him, having sequestered like a secret in his ivory tower with its garden of perennials; however, he'd grown used to the solitude, to the quiet and the shadows that had held him like a kiss, but this warming reunion with this fiercely dear companion? It's better. It's novel, new, and it's more than good.

Yet, it doesn't escape him, not at all, the comforts their Hero of Eorzea is willingly foregoing. Gale knows he's worn to the marrow, skin sloven off his bones with the weight of delivering the gods damned planet. Here, Tai should have left them, should have poured himself a nightcap and plucked himself a read. He'd have been well within his right to, pursuing homely stories far gentler than the whirlwind of his hell-raised world, but then, poems little keep him, those stanzas gabbing longly on autumn love. Gale warms just a little, syrup gathering in a torrent in the rivers of his veins. He could have chosen quiet, could have ran to his room and chased slumber for the night, but the space inside his kitchen shadowing his side? It's sweet. Tai Yang laughs, and it's truly home.

"There's no need to endear yourself to me for a shot at seconds," Gale teases, "but that said, I suppose a bit of flattery couldn't hurt your chances." Of course. Happily, Gale offers the spoon, the scent of some berry-reduction paired oh so divinely with the whipped up cream. He's flour beneath his nails, a sheet pretty little tarts waiting for the filling. Tai should have first taste, he reckons. It's a sort of — grounding relief, he realizes, to watch as the furrow in his brow quietly softens. "Try it. You'd gone and saved the world some several times over. At this point, you could tell me that reading tarot cards was a legitimate science, and I wouldn't even think to question you — or not exhaustively at any rate, no offense to Urianger." Candles glowing, Gale studies the strong lines to his arms. "It's a relief to have you back with us. I admit, I may have planned this reunion feast for the better part of a year for how long it's felt like. How you're on your feet tonight at all is honestly beyond me." Hm. "I could stand to you see on them a little less." / @sunfate, continued from here.

[recitedemise]

you really have outdone yourself this time.

He's still cooking because of course he is. See, Tai Yang has finally returned, his spirit whole, his body hale, and his endless well of aether miraculously in tact. And it has been months of warring, of hole struggling for the world and its waiting denizens, and after a million-and-one fights that could have murdered him bloody, he still, despite it all, had shuffled home. Tataru was thrilled, jumping up and down with a color to her cheeks. She'd insisted on a feast, something grand and lavish just as he deserves, but why settle on those cooks whose skills he knew were lacking?

Gale, smiling proudly, had nabbed their place.

Now, the hall springs fragrant, some porxie-chops steaming and some fruity pies prepped. It'd seem like a supper fit for more, deserving of the palate of an over-proud king, and even Alisaie was moved to sing the mage her praises! G'raha, less stubborn, near caroled him an ode. How loudly the Scions gab, the candles warm, their hearts light, and Eorzea still safe, but either hungry for silence or a break from rowdy crowds, Tai, plate polished, had sought him out. How nice. Gale scallops his crust, flour beneath his fingers and some butter at his chin. On the stove, chopped faerie apples bathe in pools of cinnamon. Beside it, a bowl of cream sits sweet and whipped.

"As if I could I allow anyone, no less you, to come home to a less than decadent meal," Gale says. "Still, winning your praise isn't something I'm all too familiar with...although--" his mouth tugs "--I'm more than happy to grow acquainted." Ha! This dastardly little mage and his wagging tongue, right? Turning for a spoon, Gale scoops some of that decadent filling for him. "I'm afraid your world-saving services are still required, however. May I ask for your infallible opinion?"