#isola-thoughts

[asernolonger]

Subversion Renewal, Part 2: Mercy

Though Selenie never used the strange device that she’d been given upon first arriving, instead opting to just leave it in her own part of the place she’d been assigned, it still lingered. The damn thing required one to be able to read well to be able to use it, and, while Selenie was a woman capable of many things, reading well was not one of them. Not in the slightest. Whatever was wrong with her that she couldn’t make sense of the words, combined with her lowborn start to life, and then, just spending all of her life devoted more to combat than anything else, all made it so she’d long since given up on learning how to even try to read well. 

...This also meant she’d never bothered to figure out how to shut the damn thing up. That had never been a problem before, either, as she’d never set it up to let others on the island contact her, so it never made much in the way of noise. Until today, that is.

“Fury fucking preserve me!” She swore as an ear-shattering alarum sound tore through the apartment. She quickly turned over in her bed to discover it was the device. She growled, annoyed.

“The hells do you want, you damn device-!”

Then, a voice came over it, explaining everything. The idea of having a possibly-evil duplicate wasn’t too foreign to her, but she sure as hells did not like the idea. She was not about to let someone who even remotely looked like her continue to get away with Gods alone know what. For the first time since she arrived here, she actually took the... whatever in the hells it was with her, opened the door, sprinted out, and leapt over the balcony’s edge, snapping her tail downwards as she did so to put more force behind her takeoff. She allowed herself to fall to gain move speed, pressing her arms against her body, her legs together, and her tail into that small space along the back of her legs, where they met, all to streamline herself and gain more speed. Then, when the moment was right, she spread her draconic wings, and she was airborne. 

An old routine, sure, but an effective one that hadn’t failed her yet. As she soared through the skies, she kept her eyes peeled for her target. 

It didn’t take her long to find her prey, also airborne, seemingly on a hunt of her own. However, the copy didn’t seem to notice her. The disgraced Dragoon smirked. Perfect.

Before the clone could even blink, Selenie flew as fast as she could manage, and rammed as hard as she could into the back of the clone from above her, knocking the wind out of the fake and sending her at maximum speed into the ground. Selenie dove down, and, with flames enveloping her, landed once more on top of her target. 

The clone was still alive, but thoroughly dazed and damaged. Perfect. Selenie sighed heavily, closed her eyes for a brief moment, and then, opened them.

“You’re just as miserable as me, aren’t you? Been through all manner of hells and back... and now, whoever made you wants to end you, and is making you suffer in the process... enough. Rest easy.” She said, rather somberly and softly.

Though it took her several moments, and the copy started to stir in the time, she eventually figured out how to use the device to send the pitiful thing on to a better place. It let out one last anguished sigh, and then, vanished into tiny particles, looking far too electronic to be aether. 

At least the creature could rest easy now, Selenie hoped. 

[asernolonger]

False Paradise

This realm was a very... unpredictable place, Selenie had long since concluded. Sometimes, it would be peaceful, quiet, and entirely uneventful, with the residents of this strange island just doing... well, whatever the seven hells they felt like doing in that given moment. And yet, in the next fleeting moment, something would happen, either good or bad, and everything would change drastically. It honestly pissed her off-she had been forced to beat up innocent civilians because some swiving whoreson decided he was bored thanks to one of these little incidents! 

So, when she began to hear voices booming throughout the island, over the built-in communications (whatever they were called, she was no machine master, and quite frankly didn’t care about that detail), she tensed instinctively, and drew her beloved spear off her back. She barely had time to spread her wings before she felt herself being pulled to... well, she didn’t know where this was.

On the surface, it appeared to be almost some sort of warm, beachside paradise, like Costa del Sol if said area in Limsa had never been colonized by anyone. Crystal clear waters off to her right, a lush, tropical jungle to her left, and sand underneath her heel. A brilliant, shimmering sun blazed bright in the clear, perfect sky above her. She blinked a few times, and nothing changed.

“What in the seven hells?” She muttered, not even remotely recognizing this area. It seemed that, as time passed, Selenie was just more and more confused by this strange realm as a whole. Were there even rules to how things worked here? She wasn’t honestly sure there were rules when it came to how things worked in this godsforsaken realm!

She let out an exasperated sigh. She knew how to survive in the wilds on her own. She heard her own stomach growl, and shrugged. First order of business.. something good to eat. She heard rustling in the bushes, and saw dinner on four legs emerge from the lush greenery before her. She licked her lips, and charged forth, spear bared, easily taking down her prey.

With practiced ease, she cleaned her kill, using the hide and bones to make a passable shelter in a clearing she found deep in the wilds. Selenie was never one to waste everything, and what wasn’t used in the construction of her shelter or to feed her raging appetite was reserved as a... deterrent, ready to throw. She had a small fire going, roasting the meat and organs. She couldn’t help a small, somber smile. Oh, how this brought her back to the early days of her adventuring life... before she was discovered by the Scions. Before she slew her first primal. Before she became the bloody Savior of Eorzea. Before she became something she never once would’ve dreamed of being during her time as a lowborn on the streets of Ishgard, shivering from the unrelenting cold, and vicious and hostile towards practically everyone else around her.

Violence had always been her life, she supposed. That had not changed, and probably would not change. Not now, and not in the foreseeable future. Such was the life of a soldier. Such was the life of an adventurer. Such was the life of the Warrior of Light. She chuckled, and shook her head. When had she become so damn sentimental? 

[asernolonger]

She didn’t think things could have gotten any worse for her. Most of her friends’ very existence being in ever-increasing danger, nearly turning into the absolute strongest Lightwarden that ever was and likely ever would be (which would have caused all manner of hells, both ones that she understood and ones that she didn’t), and having to kill one of Gaius’ dear children before his eyes because of the whole Ruby Weapon disaster...  (Fighting Nael again was also not fun, once in the Coils was enough in Selenie’s eyes.) She thought that, when she felt that familiar pull from when she was first brought to the island, she would find respite. She thought she would be able to take a break and relax. Get drunk on the cherry blossom petal scent once again without having to worry about a godsdamned thing. Return to cooking at that small little eatery, showing off her creations with pride. (Also, eating all of the eggshells and other such scraps, because she could handle doing that. The manager appreciated it, because it saved them money somehow...)

But, of course, the fates could never be that bloody kind to her. No, for when she returned to the island, she returned to find that it was in ruins. Sparking wires, ravaged streets, leveled buildings, and some of those not-magitek lights dangling down, flickering constantly. Something disastrous had happened here, and while she had no idea what it was (and quite frankly, she probably wouldn’t entirely understand if she knew-Selenie never had been and never would be a master of arcane or scholarly matters), she knew it was bad. In fact, she might even dare to say it was almost on the level of the Battle of Carteneau Flats. (Bloody Bahamut... she couldn’t have even begun to imagine what it was like to see that firsthand... Nael was an absolute madwoman, that was for certain.) It seemed to have ended, thankfully, but rebuilding was always a struggle. She bit her lip, and thought for a moment.

She wondered if that strange, tiny, little moon god was still around. The one with the odd name... the one that she called Menphina, because to hells with his original name. If he was still around, maybe he could tell her what had happened here. Thankfully, it would be all too easy to find him with one of the many... unique abilities she had. Unique even by the standards of an Ishgardian, or any Elezen to speak of, or even for a fabled Warrior of Light. Her large, functional, draconic wings that were as natural to her as breathing. The gift of flight, only limited by her stamina. (She had a lot of that, so she could stay airborne for a long time, with or without the help of the wind.)

She sprinted, and, with force, leapt skywards, snapping her scale-clad tail downwards as she did. She spread her wings, and beat them a good few times until she was properly airborne. She then began to soar throughout the city, diving down and gliding up as needed to survey the domain. 

She needed to find that little runt of a god. She needed to find him now. He would listen to her woes, if nothing else. 

[asernolonger]

Event Drabble #3: A Faint Warmth

While it had felt good to help the young children sculpt the giant ice dragon, and that one crippled young boy to feel the wind through his hair, soon enough, the cold once again reared its ugly head. Once again, Selenie was reminded of how thoroughly her current body disagreed with freezing, snowy weather. The wind currents were only somewhat helpful in flight, now being cold instead of warm, and she struggled to stay properly warm on her own. She had every intent of returning to her apartment, grabbing every blanket she could find, and cocooning herself in said blankets in front of a fire. 

However, the sweet smell of freshly-cooked soup caught her nose. Almost like a siren’s song, it called to her, and she was in no position to refuse. She changed direction, following the heavenly scent, until she found her way to what could she could describe as heaven made manifest.

An immense, seemingly endless cauldron of soup, free of charge. It smelled heavenly, and she was already almost foaming at the mouth at the smell alone. The sight made it even better. She could no longer help herself-she dove down, the ground quivering as she landed in excitement. She darted up to the one in charge of distributing the soup, and, thankfully, no words were needed. A generous serving was gifted to her, and she excitedly darted off, finding a bench to sit down on. 

She removed her helmet, and began to happily devour the soup she had been given, until there was not a drop left. She then returned to the provider, and handed back the bowl. A warm smile, and a nod, and then, the former Dragoon turned sharply on her heel. She began to sprint with renewed strength, and, with a powerful leap, followed promptly by a powerful downward snap of her scale-clad, whip-like tail, she took to the skies once more. 

The cold wasn’t bothering her right now. Not with the joy that remained from helping those innocent, happy-go-lucky, delightful children achieve their dreams (simple and plain as those dreams were), and not with a stomach full of homemade, freshly-cooked, warm soup. It was a gift most welcome to the disgraced dragoon. 

Would she ever truly be able to let go of her ways as a former soldier turned divinely-blessed heroine? Probably not. But moments like this were a welcome diversion for the Warrior of Light. She would always love a good fight, and there would never be anything quite like the rush she felt when fighting a primal or a swarm of Imperial men. 

But that didn’t mean that such gentle moments were any less valuable to her. Maybe, she thought, as she arrived at her apartment via the balcony (as she was wont to do, with her ability to fly making it much easier to enter via the balcony), tonight wouldn’t be as miserable. Maybe she wouldn’t have to steal every blanket and huddle in front of the fire until exhaustion finally claimed her mind. 

...Oh, who was she kidding, it would probably come to that eventually. Her body was forever changed to need such extreme measures in the cold. But the memories she made today would make matters a bit less miserable, and that was enough for her.

[asernolonger]

Event Drabble #2: Dreams of Ice

Working with the small group of children allowed Selenie to forget all about the misery that cold and snow generally brought her. The young boy who had requested her help in the first place was still excitedly clinging to her back, pointing and telling the war veteran where to chip away at the unfinished ice next. The rest of the small group of Hyur-esque children were excitedly shouting and cheering. 

Selenie hadn’t felt this good in... well, she wasn’t sure she really ever had felt this good. In this moment, she wasn’t the fabled hero, the Champion of Eorzea, the Eikon-Slayer, the Champion of Hydaelyn, the Imperials’ Bane, the Warrior of Light. She was just simply Selenie. Not the former dragoon who fell to her own lust for vengeance, but just a middle-aged woman being adored by innocent young children who had yet to learn to cruel ways of the world. Not the embittered, fierce, terrifying master of the spear forever changed by a forced manifestation of her ancestors’ great sins, but just someone who could fly and happened to be very strong. Not a woman who was annoyed and utterly despises the cold, instead being someone who was helping these children achieve such a simple dream. 

And, of course, Maltet being forged with dragon’s fire, dragon’s blood, and dragon’s scales, using it to chip at ice didn’t dull it at all. Selenie, of course, also added in her own two cents, being rather knowledgeable about the visage of many a different type of dragon. The children couldn’t be much happier, at least, as far as Selenie could tell. 

With the former dragoon’s help, they carved out a truly impressive dragon statue-a statue that Selenie helped shape into the visage of Roror, the dragon that had shown her infinite kindness when she needed it most, even though she didn’t deserve it. Was it intentional? She wasn’t sure, but the children didn’t need to know any detail regarding that anyways. 

As soon as the massive statue was finished, Selenie landed, and then crouched down, letting the little boy off of her back. He then proceeded to hug her, and before she could even blink, another one of the children leapt onto her back. She looked back, and then, it clicked for her.

They all wanted a turn on her back. She laughed, and shrugged. Who was she to refuse such a simple wish? Each one was easily quite small enough to fit on her back, and she loved flying. Why not share the joy with these wonderful children?

One by one, she took them each upon her back, and took them for a brief flight. They would each squeal in delight, and enthusiastically thanked her upon finishing their turn. After the last child, she waved good-bye, and turned and left. Just as she was about to sprint and take off, she heard a soft whimper. She turned, looked, and saw a young man in one of those “wheelchairs” she’d heard a bit about during her time on the island. She looked confused at him.

“Ah, don’t mind us, miss... he just saw you flying, and he’s always dreamed of taking to the skies...” 

A middle-aged woman, probably closer to Aymeric or Estinien in actual age than Selenie herself, had been the one to speak. The former dragoon shook her head.

“It’s nothing. If he wants to fly, I’d be more than happy to take him.” She assured. The kid gasped, as did the woman who Selenie could only assume was his mother.

“Miss, you don’t have to...” She trailed, but once again, the former dragoon shook her head. She strode over to the young child, and, after a nod from the mother, picked the little one up, and easily hefted him onto her back. The young boy grabbed on tight to Selenie’s armor, and, with a good running start, the Warrior of Light took to the skies. The crippled young boy let out a happy cry as the wind blew through his hair, and then, Selenie returned to his mother, and returned the young boy to the chair. The mother’s eyes were glistening.

“How can I ever thank you...” She asked weakly. Selenie shrugged.

“Just continue to be a good mother to him. And, you, half-pint?” 

The kid looked up.

“Be good for your mom.” 

Before any further comment could be made, Selenie sprinted, and took off into the freezing winter night.

[asernolonger]

Event Drabble: The Snow Isn’t Good For Dragoons

The moment Selenie felt the air begin to chill, a feeling of dread settled in her stomach. Despite growing up in literal eternal snow, she despised the white stuff. It was cold, it was wet, and it was irksome enough back when she was just another Ishgardian Dragoon. Now, it was even worse for her, as her awakened draconic blood made it so much more. Far colder, far wetter, and even more annoying. If any snow (melted or not) managed to sneak its way into the spaces between her scales, it was pure misery to try and get it out. And if and when she finally managed the feat (she had gotten a lot of practice when she was forced to return to Ishgard for those select several moons, so she did know how to do it, but that didn’t make it any less annoying for the former dragoon), she would still suffer from shivers and chills for several hours until her body finally warmed back to normal temperature.

Even if no snow made its way into the tiny spaces between and under her scales, Selenie still hated the cold with a fiery passion. Living in eternal cold had been a shite experience for a lowborn with no real clothing back when she was a normal Ishgardian. When she returned all those years later, body forever changed, the cold felt even worse. And it took far longer for her to warm up on her own. During her time as a refugee in her former homeland, when not fighting or otherwise needed, she would curl up in a ball, near the closest raging fire she could find, layering herself in as many blankets as possible. It had startled the Fortemps sons, as well as their servants and Count Edmont, the first few times they saw her do this (save for Haurchefant, who had borne witness to the act on multiple occasions when she’d visited Camp Dragonhead, Halone bless him) quite intensely. Thank the Fury they learned to just accept it as a part of who she was. Even with all that, it took far too long (in the ex-dragoon’s humble opinion, anyways) to warm back up, let alone stay properly warm.

So, when the chill came, the dread was quick to settle in. And when the snow came, the dread sank in even deeper. Selenie now expected to stay hidden away in her apartment for most of the time, only emerging as needed to go to work and deal with shedding her scales. And stretching, as her wings were far too large to even remotely completely stretch out in the confines of the place she’d been assigned to. 

But otherwise, the Warrior of Light had every intention of staying inside and quite warm-

“Hey, dragon lady!” 

Selenie snapped to attention to see a young boy, likely no older than eight years, looking up at her with hope in his eyes. She raised an eyebrow at him-he must be one of the locals, as he had no real aether to speak of-nothing that she could sense, at the very least.

“Err... Can I... help you?” She asked awkwardly. She would never get used to that look from children-one of innocence and ignorance that was never their fault, and quite frankly, for their own personal good. 

“You look really strong, and you can fly, right?” The little brat asked.

“I can indeed fly, and I am indeed quite strong... if I do say so myself!” She answered.

“Can you help us make our big ice statue? We’re gonna make a giant ice dragon, but we can’t reach up high enough to finish it!” He pleaded, pointing in a direction. The former dragoon looked up, and noticed that, indeed, a half-sculpted state of ice in the general shape of a dragon was there, but it was obvious that the children couldn’t reach high enough to finish it. She chuckled.

“I would be glad to help. Would you be okay with me carrying you on my back?” She asked, kneeling down to the child’s level. The child gasped in awe.

“R-Really?! You’d carry me on your back, miss?!” He asked, excitement in his tone. Selenie nodded, and he hollered for joy. She turned around, and helped the little brat scramble his way onto her armored back. 

“Hold on tight, but not the horns!” She told him, and once she felt he had a firm enough grip on her shoulders, she sprinted and leapt skywards, snapping her tail downwards and spreading her wings wide. A good few flaps, and they were properly airborne. She flew towards the incomplete statue, and the other children around it stared in awe at the airborne Warrior of Light. She then looked back towards the one on her back.

“I know very well what dragons look like... mind if I help make this little masterpiece of yours even better?” She offered. The young boy nodded enthusiastically, and she brought Maltet to bear. 

Maybe the cold wouldn’t be so bad... at least, not this time.

[asernolonger]

Signal Drabble #1: Whispers of the Damned

It seemed that there was no way in the seven hells to predict when the island would go from peaceful to outright madness. And what that outright madness would exactly entail seemed to be just as unpredictable. At least with the so-called Fantasia War, she’d been rewarded with the return of her actual spear, Maltet, for her troubles. Also, she thankfully didn’t have to harm any innocents during that chaos. 

As time had gone on, she had also regained two of her Dive abilities-Dragonfire Dive and Spineshatter Dive, to be more specific. So, she was a bit more prepared to deal with anything hostile if the next event brought such beings with it. All that mattered was for the next event to rear its ugly head. 

And rear its ugly head it did. Hydaelyn barely managed to whisper to Selenie in time-”Ware ye, my child, the coming change-all is not as it seems!” and then, everything suddenly looked like the static she saw in the Interdimensional Rift during Omega’s blasted trials. When it cleared, her breath caught in her throat.

Everything was ruined. The city looked now more like the Gates of Judgement during Nidhogg’s final assault on Ishgard than itself. With a powerful jump and and powerful flap of her wings, she leapt into the sky to get a better view, and grimaced. It was still very much the island in overall shape from what she could see, but the looks had changed. It was far more abandoned and desolate. People were hiding away in scorched, black brick homes. Animals were almost nowhere to be seen. And then... those things started to appear.

They had the vague shape of wild creatures, but looked more like Omega had halfheartedly created them and then promptly discarded them. She did not like what was happening. Had Omega returned and decided to seek revenge by threatening the island itself? No, that couldn’t be it-the damn machine would’ve revealed itself by now.

She hissed through her draconic teeth. She had no answers, but her intuition and Echo both screamed at her that the not-animals were very dangerous if they caught sight of her. She pulled her lance from her back, and checked its edge. Freshly sharpened from this morning’s efforts. Good. She was ready for a fight if it came to it.

She could only hope she wouldn’t have to kill innocents this time. The madness of the fittingly-named Pandemonium event still were burning on her mind. If she ever found that damn bastard coeurl-man, she had vowed to seek revenge for all those who were slain thanks to his machinations. At least the fae-child she’d encountered during the events of the Fantasia War was able to escape with naught more than a few nasty bruises from Selenie literally pummeling her to save Menphina from collapsing or being slain by wild, out-of-control magicks... though that had revealed to Menphina her accursed inability to read properly. And thus led Menphina to begin to try to teach her how to read. Oh, how his heart was in the right place... but she doubted there was any point at her age. She looked much younger than she actually was, to be fair to him. 

She began to watch, tail idly flicking about as she waited for what she felt was going to be inevitable combat.

[asernolonger]

Drabble: The Fire Within

As each day passed, she adjusted more and more to this strange, mostly-peaceful life she’d been thrust in to in this strange realm. Her tail was still sometimes twitchy, so to speak, and, to let loose, she’d find some open, clear space, devoid of people, animals, and anything more than grass and shrubbery. Once a soldier, always a soldier, as the saying went. 

Tonight was one of those twitchy nights. Perhaps it had been induced by that entitled bitch at the cafe who went absolutely mad after bearing witness to Selenie eating something that she’d made herself, on her lunch break, because it was such a large portion, and she was an employee. Even after explaining that she needed to eat such large amounts because of the nature of her body, and that she was on a break, the woman would not stop ranting at Selenie. Finally, she’d decided enough was enough, and turned to face the woman. She made a show of her fangs and let her eyes take on their more draconic shape, which terrified the woman. Before things could go any further, a manager had swiftly arrived, and had the woman escorted out by authorities. He then told her that, in the future, she should probably eat lunch out back, so as to avoid having to deal with such entitled brats in the future. That was a suggestion she intended to take.

But restraining herself from outright giving the woman a thorough black eye made her twitchy. She needed to unleash safely, or else she’d no doubt go on a rampage. So, she went to a favored spot, on the beaches, far enough away from the crowds to avoid hurting anyone. She drew her lance, and let loose. 

She slashed through the air, and stabbed imaginary targets as she pleased. She began to feel the high of battle-a feeling she so loved-but, and rather suddenly, she felt something else surge-raw, firey power. With a feral roar, she leapt skywards, turned around sharply, and aimed her spear towards the ground. She dove down, aetherial fire engulfing her form, and landed with great force, which sent the fire outwards until it dissapated. After a few moments of panting, she blinked, and then, smirked demonically in realization.

She knew that move. It was one of the abilities that had been sealed away.... Dragonfire Dive. It had been returned to her. She didn’t know why or how, but she had it back, and that’s what mattered to her. She looked skywards.

“One step closer.... or perhaps, the better saying is one dive closer...”