“I’ve got two left feet when it comes to dancing.”
Una’to hum’s out slightly tapping on his chin, his eyes hidden by his half mask.
“A waltz should work then. The steps simply repeat and I’ll lead”. He grabs the Xeala womans hands and places them as such before placing his as he needs to as well. “There we go. First I’ll step forward with one foot as you step back, like a mirror. Then the other foot gets pulled up. That same foot we pull up goes to the side and we slide our first foot to it. Then I step back with that second foot again as you step forward, and we repeat the slide to the other side, and start from the top once more to dance in a box shape. We’ll go slow alright?”
Thank you for the masquerade prompt @itssecretrequiem! I had to discuss a basic waltz with my SO to make sure I wrote these out as best as I could. ;;;
If your muse snuck into my muse’s room. Mine would:
[] Go back to sleep
[] Kick yours out
[] Cuddle with yours
[x] Be like “How in the world?” (( why is there a shortage of beds suddenly?! ))
[x] Let yours sleep on the floor (( Once more, she’ll take the floor and leave the bed to you! She’s slept on much worse. ))
[] Become angry
If your muse kissed mine (or hugged, depending upon character/gender). Mine would:
[x] Kiss or hug yours back (( awkward pat on the back and a vacant stare into the distance, wondering if she offended one of the twelve to provoke people into touching her so frequently. ))
[x] Smile and laugh
[x] Stiffen, and feel uncomfortable
[] Push yours away
[x] Be shocked
[] Strike yours
If your muse asked mine to go out with yours for a day. Mine would say:
[] No
[x] Yes (( She wouldn’t mind getting to know others! ))
[] Most certainly not.
[] Without hesitation.
My muse finds your muse’s physical appearance:
[x] Cute
[x] Adorable
[] Attractive
[] Beautiful/Handsome
[] Okay
[] Ugly
[] Am not going to grace this with an answer
Your muse is to mine a:
[] Stranger
[x] Acquaintance
[x] Ally
[] Friend
[] Lover
[] Rival
[] Enemy
My muse finds yours:
[] Pathetic
[] Off no consequence
[x] Intriguing
[] Frightening
[] Unsettling
[] Annoying
[] Infuriating
[x] Pleasant company
[] Comforting
[] Unable to be lived without
[x] Trustworthy
Ginger: For a drabble about my muse experiencing something for the first time. @itssecretrequiem
Who: Renh WhittlerWhat: Recovery post-deep Shroud shenanigans.Warnings: some gore, kinda-sorta body horror
It took nearly a full cycle for Renh to heal after his ordeal, and longer still to regain some semblance of normalcy.
The chirurgeons, at least, had been upfront about his eyes; he’d never see again. They were gentler in his presence, but he’d overheard enough to piece together the ghastly truth behind the searing agony that radiated from where his eyes had been, once: they’d been ripped out, and not cleanly. Whatever had done it had left no chance that even conjury could regenerate or repair the damage, all they could do was mend the flesh that remained.
And conjurers had been called, though his eyes were the least of their concerns, once they’d seen the extensive damage to rest of him.
Some strain of the Greenwrath, they’d whispered; a pity, then, that Renh’s hearing was still as good as–or perhaps better–than ever.
A kind of …wasting rot, though for a blessing it doesn’t seem to be contagious, another had suggested.
But look, he regenerates nearly as fast as he decays! And so had the rounds of trial and error begun, with aetherial healing and manual treatments alike. All Renh knew was that, were it not for the potent sedation they kept him under, the pain would have likely driven him mad.
He still couldn’t say with absolute certainty that it hadn’t–so he said nothing about it at all. He merely slept, and endured.
The chirurgeons and the conjurers didn’t have so much a breakthrough as they did a slow and methodical foundering into a regimen of topical salves and enchanted tonics that served to suppress the decay of his flesh, and stimulate its bizarre natural regeneration. While they managed to fine-tune the process over the course of several moons, the effectiveness of their solutions only held for a few suns, at best, before whatever this affliction was resumed its course and he’d need another application.
They weren’t certain it would be fatal if left unattended, but it would be painful, to say nothing of what recovery would look like if he were otherwise wounded. Unable to do more for him from a magical standpoint (and doubtless wishing to report on the strangeness of what they’d settled on as a curse of some kind), the conjurers left for Gridania, leaving him in the capable hands of the chirurgeons at Coerthas’s Camp Dragonhead.
Renh heard he’d reportedly been found, by some fickle game of chance, outside the borders of the Shroud, half-buried in the snow, and had initially been taken to the Observatorium–though he presumed his condition had precluded him staying there. He remembered none of it; those early days were a haze of static, and the gaps in his memory were filled with either black emptiness or a sharp buzz of malice that rattled his teeth and filled his gaping eye sockets with a phantom sort of pain.
Eventually, however, the treatments were enough that he could stagger about; first, with the aid of one of the nurses, then a cane; eventually his stomach could hold down more than a thick gruel; eventually, his strength began to return little by little.
And one day, the dark, and the silence he’d become accustomed to erupted into light and sound.
Renh could barely recall what had triggered it; he’d dropped a spoon, he thought, and it was while he was fumbling around on all fours, shame and outrage and disgust burning in his chest at his ineptitude. Suddenly, a wound that he’d known no conjurer or chirurgeon could fix–one that had severed his ability to conjure, to Hear, himself–had reconnected, like two perfect pieces of a puzzle aligning together at last.
Aether had all but surged into him, a cyclonic wind tearing through the common room. It sent tables and chairs flying, those too brittle to withstand the impact splintering against the stonework. Renh himself was tossed briefly about like a ragdoll, pitched into a wall where he dropped unceremoniously to the floor, limbs all akimbo.
It was in the stillness that followed that he found himself staring at a dully glowing, greenish-gold haze in the vague shape of a hand. His hand, where it had moved slowly in his attempt to right himself. He was seeing his hand. And his arm, if he was being honest with himself, and the–cold stone floor on which his bandaged palm found itself resting rather uncomfortably, though the latter was more difficult to perceive, more lost to a pointillist impression of dully glowing motes.
Aether, he thought to himself, I’m seeing– Seeing. He was seeing, whether or not it was a true sight. He had no tear ducts left with which ti cry, but he swore in that moment that he felt a burning as though his body remembered how. Perhaps it did.
Renh didn’t recall the flurry of activity that had followed; nurses rushing to his aid, and the aid of those who’d been likewise affected by his aetherial outburst–by and large because he’d soon succumbed to a sudden exhaustion.
He would never be whole again–that much he knew. But it was a start.
Headcannon: Hien and Kiri get married and discuss having kids 10 minutes before they accidentally adopt Secret because they are worried she'll self destruct if nobody is watching her 24/7.
Hien and Kiri get married and accidentally adopt Secret AND have a ton of kids. You hear that, Secret? You’ll have siblings!
Don’t worry, Kiri adopts a lot of people. All her friends are basically family to her. She’s everyone’s big sister.
🔴 Red - Do you have a dream AU you haven’t written in yet?
Munday Meme: @itssecretrequiem
🔴 Red - Do you have a dream AU you haven’t written in yet?
I have two in particular.
The first one is an AU where Kiri has magitek prosthesis that replace her legs after an accident. The AU was actually meant to be part of her real story, I simply just didn’t know how to incorporate it or how well I would have written it so I left it out. The accident takes place between ARR and HW and is how she becomes a Dragoon. In canon she’s just able to jump like that which really doesn’t make sense imo but hey it is what it is. Cid helps her take care of them and reminds her to come in for maintenance.
The second is a little long winded so hold on tight. When Kiri/Kilika left Doma as a child, having been sold to a Garlean Scientist, she undergoes extensive experiments while in their care. Time passes and eventually the ship she was on with the scientist, on their way to Garlemald, crashes and no one survives. Except Kirishimi. The only thing? Kirishimi isn’t the original Kilika. Kilika died in the shipwreck as well; Kirishimi is a clone the scientist created. That’s why Kirishimi doesn’t retain any memories of her life before the wreck and can’t seem to remember Hien, even when he begins to remember her.
Wait I lied there’s a third;
The ship carrying Kirishimi to Garlemald as a child doesn’t crash. Instead she makes it there and continues to be an experiment. Fast forward to the present and her would-be friends and Warriors of Light have to fight against the magitek infused Kirishimi, a soldier in the Garlemald army.
Do you also have those people you really want to talk to but are too shy to start talking to? (Because same)
Shy Munday meme: @itssecretrequiem
Definitely. I typically over think how to approach people and then I just ... don’t. I’ve been working on getting better at it, at least here on tumblr.
30 Uncommon Character Development Questions: Closed
@itssecretrequiem
23) Do they prefer romance or affection? What is the quickest way to your character’s heart?
Definitely not the romantic sort. While the gesture is appreciated, being oneself and having fun is a top priority for Kiri. Not a stuffy candlelight dinner in her best dress. She prefers the chemistry one feels while enjoying time together instead. Even if that’s out on walks, raiding a previously unexplored cavern, or sitting in a tavern talking about days passed. Also it doesn’t hurt to buy her food.
29) Does your character get restless when things are too quiet or do they favour solitude and silence? Why?
Solitude and silence is a breeding ground for destructive, intrusive thoughts. Even should she be injured and require bed rest, madness would set in before long and she would throw herself out the nearest window while her captors caretakers are away. She lives for adventure and movement, almost nomadic in nature. Being cooped up in Ishgard during a blizzard is what hell would look like.
Una’to stops what he was doing. Before he knew it he was trying to pull a twig from the Aura’s hair that had managed to get tangled, but was being as gentle as possible.
“I’m sorry, I should have asked to touch your hair before hand. I’m not braiding it as a twig as become tangled in your locks... However should you like me to in apology after touching your hair without first asking I could braid it as an apology,” he offers with a warm smile.
