#l'selle

[karoiseka]

Happy Birthday @furymint and @kukurubean !!

Hope you have the best of days!! <3

[karoiseka]

Happy (belated!) Birthday @newty and @kukurubean !!

[karoiseka]

16) Third-rate

((ahhhhhh! Actually getting one 100% posted before bed!! ... even if it's entirely too late!! Thank you @newty for letting me borrow your characters!! <3 Very vague post 6.0 timeframe, but not dealing with anything spoilers))

The storm raged outside the doors of the Bobbing Cork, though inside the lights shone warmly against the gloom.  It was a quiet evening, with custom being as slow as it ever got–which meant not very.  Traffic had picked up between the Shroud and Coerthas, and the outpost of Revenant’s Toll having built up over the years and being almost as close as Ishgard meant almost all travelers coming from that side of Eorzea inevitably ended up at the inn.

Through the doors came an adventurer–not an uncommon sight by any means–bundled up against the weather, pack upon their back, hood pulled up to cover the face.  Unremarked, they headed to the counter like anyone else, before shaking the covering from their head.  Dark hair shone in the light, blue like the storm outside tinting the edges.  Aeluuin the innkeep shouted in surprised recognition, catching the attention of a few of the patrons, who now looked at the newcomer with curiosity.  

The lady chatted amicably for several minutes with the staff, a friendly argument obviously arising as her coin was pushed back to her once, twice, three times before she sighed and put the gil back into the pouch at her side.  It was not often that someone would be allowed to keep their gil, instead of paying fairly for their lodging, but this adventurer must be someone who was owed a favor.

Placing her bag in the corralled area with the rest, the wood wailer nodded to her amicably before his own eyes grew wide, and he adjusted some of the belongings so her’s was closest to him, and most protected.  An amused smile graced her lips as she pulled a harp out from its case attached to the pack.  The filigree walking stick that had been in her hand went with the pack as well–some noticing that it looked more akin to a mage’s staff than a fancy hiking aid.

Whispers had started as they saw the instrument, the musician finding a spot to play–and gathering some odd looks when she balanced on the upstairs rail, looping a foot around the tines and tuning the harp.

“Who’s this third-rate fool that’s about to play?” the words were loud enough for almost the whole room to hear, but it only made the adventurer's mouth twitch into a smile, her blue eyes scanning the room.  The man’s refill came with a gentle smack upside the back of his head from his server.

“Hush you, if you don’t know who that is now, then you’ll figure it out soon enough!” Y’lantaa scowled down at the patron, green eyes flashing, before turning to help another guest with their order.  All around, people adjusted their seats to try and glimpse the Miqo’te who was preparing to play.  Most assumed (partially right) that it was how she was paying for her fare, but the few that recognized her already were watching wide-eyed that they were about to get this performance at no cost.

The harp strings sang, the opening chord one of joy and happiness, yet a calm tune to match the storm.  Conversations drifted off, chatter dulled, and a lull overtook the establishment as the true magic of a full Bard resonated against the rafters.  As the first song came to a close, a rustling of hushed whispers wove a background to the applause.  Could it really be her?  Why would she want to play in this small hamlet?  Surely she could easily be the guest of the Seedseer! Or the Sultana or the Lords of Ishagard!  What was she doing here? For one and all had figured out the mysterious stranger was none other than Karoiseka O’dayla; archer, bard, Saviour of Ishgard, Eorzea’s Champion, Liberator of Ala Mhigo and Doma, Savior of the Star.  Warrior of Light.

Heedless of the whispers, she launched into another song–one unheard in this world, but a simple shepherd's song sang in a community much like this.  It was familiar and not, one could almost hum along before the tune changed just subtly from what expectation allowed.  One after another, she dazzled one and all–mixing songs they knew with tunes they would never hear again.

After a bell or so, Karo felt a nudge on her shoulder, and a familiar face looking down with a smile.  The harp was held loosely for the moment–but not forgotten as she turned to half-hug L’selle, come to bring her a drink.  Mischief could wait for another night, for tonight was a night of magic, and after downing the cider, was woven once more.

[karoiseka]

So, I can FINALLY SHARE THESE.  ::laughs::  I had a little time to create little Christmas packages/cards to send out to the Turtle Crew.  By NO MEANS have I tried to leave anyone out, and if anyone would like a little package, I would love to send one out for those that I can, though may take a little bit of time.  I was running out of time initially, and was already feeling a little socially overwhelmed at the amount of addresses I had asked for. >.>

I tried to pick classes I knew were main--or at least close to people’s heart, and it was so much fun to try and combine them in creative ways.  The charms were a... very much last minute “I wanna do something more” and just... came to be very quickly.  I’d be amused to see if anyone can guess whose is matched to whom.  

I’m so happy to have been able to hopefully give a bright spot of light at the end of the year for some of my friends--because the messages I got back really made the past week amazing.

[karoiseka]

Send 😲 for my muse’s reaction to being surprised by yours!

((Apologies for this taking so long. Hope you like it!!!))

Twilight was settling over Limsa's docks as the weary adventurer padded through the upper decks. The beauty of the sun dipping below the horizon and the stars winking into sight was lost to her; head, ears, and tail all drooping at what she hoped was the end of the day's journey. She had passed by the Bismark, it’s savory smells accented by the salt air, overlaid with the sweetbreads that were being pulled from the ovens for the evening diners. Stomach growling, Karo knew she could have stopped and been given a table immediately despite the line--but the idea of being seen turned her appetite sour. She could grab a bite to eat at the Drowning Wench where no one would give her more than a second glance.

The adventurer’s guildhall was bustling as usual this time of night, the servers dancing between the tables balancing trays of frothy mugs close to overflowing--plates and bowls full of simpler fare one would find at the Bismark. Not to say all the visitors were adventurers, they did not discriminate, several locals made the place home for solid food in a neutral atmosphere. It wasn't that Karo was any less known here, if anything it was more, but the patrons here better understood, and knew when the night was they could turn to her for a tale or ballad, and also when to let her be.

As she scanned the tables hoping to find an empty spot, a pair of familiar ears and a carrying voice met her senses. L'selle was sitting--standing really--at one of the tables off to the side, gesturing grandly as he told a tale to his enraptured crowd. His seat sat empty next to and slightly behind him, so Karo padded silently over to claim it. The story continued at it's same breakneck pace, the capitve audience at the table passing amused looks that their talespinner hadn't noticed his seat being stolen.

An entusiastic gesture had L'selle's arm headed straight for Karo's head, though anticipating something of the sort she caught his wrist in a vice as eyes wide as saucers finally registered her presence. Tail whipping behind him, the two stared at each other for a long beat in his tale, before finally Karo released his wrist with a teasing smile. Echoed in his own features, he continued as if naught had happened. A server dropped a trecher of bread and handed her a bowl of stew with a wink, and Karo finally started to relax from her travels--as anynomous as she could get.

[nuclearanomaly]

*＊✿❀ Happy Birthday @furymint & @kukurubean ❀✿＊*

[nuclearanomaly]

↱ = being lost with them!

The Limsa Lominsa aetheryte plaza was a bustle of late afternoon activity. People heading to and from the market. Adventurers gathering to go over their supplies. A bard performed atop one of the benches for a growing crowd of kids and adults alike. Above the din of the crowd, one voice caught Ninira’s attention. 

“Ninira Nira, just the lalafell I was hoping to see!”

She turned in time to see L’selle jogging through the crowd towards her, his arms ladened with what looked, and smelled, like fresh baked pastries. She was about to question his rather unusual, and undignified, technique for carrying baked goods when another voice cut across the plaza. 

“Ninira! Stop him!”

Ninira and L’selle weren’t the only people who turned to watch as Rothe Aubrey, red faced and covered in flour, charged down the walkway leading from the Bismarck angrily brandishing a spatula in L’selle’s direction. His Mandragora teetered to a stop behind him.

Ninira frowned slightly before looking back up at L’selle. “What did you do?”

“Nothing! Though I happen to have a proposition for you as well! Don’t stop me and I’ll let you have some of these.” He shifted his awkward load of pastries. “They’re fresh, and if my nose is right, chocolate hazelnut.” 

Ninira’s stomach growled as she eyed the flaky baked goods, they did smell, amazing. 

“Time is of the essence!”

Rothe was starting across the plaza, and L’selle was drifting in the direction of the crowds of Hawker’s Alley. On one hand, Rothe may reward her with other baked goods, though he didn’t look much in the mood at that moment. On the other L’selle did have the goods on hand... and chocolate hazelnut was one of her favourites. She turned to follow the miqo’te. “Deal!”

“Keep up then!” L’selle called as he took off running, Ninira sprinting after him.

Behind them Rothe let out another yell, this one coupled by the shriek of his Mandragora. 

L’selle wove through the market crowds with ease, Ninira ducking and weaving as best she could to keep up. She blindly followed after the miqo'te’s tail, over walkways, around corners, down tight alley-like staircases, winding, twisting, until they emerged onto the docks. L’selle didn’t stop here, pushing into the crowds of sailors, fishers, and definitely not pirates. 

Ninira followed, leaping over piled ropes and ducking around sailors with loaded arms. Offering rushed apologies as she hurried past. Left, right, then left again, L’selle ran, before coming to an abrupt stop, Ninira almost crashing into him from behind. He stood at the end of a dock. On either side two tall ships loomed, their gangplanks drawn, creaking in the rock of the harbour waves. 

“I admit… it’s not where I thought we’d be.” L’selle admitted. 

“Where did you think we were going?” Ninira asked as she bent over, leaning heavily against her knees to catch her breath. 

“Over there.” he pointed across the harbour to another cluster of boats moored at another dock. “Know the cap’n of that one. Lets me lay low if needed.”

“You got lost?” Ninira asked incredulously. “I thought you were a sea rat, how’d you get lost in Limsa?”

L’selle shrugged. “On the bright side it seems we also lost our perturbed baker friend!”

As if on queue a mandragora could be heard shrieking in the distance behind them. L’selle’s ears drooped slightly before he thrust a pastry in Ninira’s direction. “Eat quickly.”

Your Muse // My Muse Asks

ft. @furymint​ L’selle & @kukurubean​ Rothe.

[foewreckem]

fog!!

fog. hearing stay awake as they are carried to safety.

“Oi, stay awake! What did you say she did again?”

She could vaguely make out a talking tail in front of her. Azeyma’s arse, why did it keep talking? She thought about reaching out to give it a yank, but that seemed like too much work at the moment. Everything seemed like too much work.

“She was climbing the main mast an’ panicked when lightning hit the foremast. I TOLD her not to go up that high. Rothe, watch yer side--”

Ha. Ha ha. Awful silly, whoever they were talking about. 

“Right, tryin’ to tell her not to do something was your first mistake. Next time you just have to tell her supper’s up.”

Supper. Supper. As the voices bickered on, Aoife’s stomach growled. 

( rest prompts )