Hands you a single potato.

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Hands you a single potato.
tol & smol pt. 2 ft. @lightsprotect !
Do you have any headcanons about Igeys relationship with the rest of the convocation?
At the moment, I sadly do not. :’)
I struggle a lot with muse for Igey because we know so little about her and I’m having a really difficult time trying to think of what she was like pre-sundering.
All I really know right now is that since she was partnered up with Lahabrea following the mess she made of the Thirteenth, she has been trying her best to impress him and do a good job and does everything he asks of her. She is more loyal to him than she is to Emet-Selch or Elidibus.
Sneaks into the Ocular, proceeds to give him a big hug.
He appreciates the hug, but you didn’t have to sneak into the Ocular just to give him one, Laika.
Standing upon the dull-grey sand of what looked like a platform, a place to view her home from afar. A brilliantly colored canvas of blue, green, tans and white– a landscape of many biomes laid out before her. The world she knew was… so much smaller than what she’d thought. The expanse of the Source shown to her in its entirety is near enough to bring the hero of light to stunned silence. Her mismatched eyes fixiate upon the image before her, almost forgetting the darkened presence beside her– speaking to her. Laika quietly reaches forward, as though trying to grasp the world that was her home for so, so long.
Though she’d not walked a step, she feels tired and overwhelmed as though drowning in the scale of things so far beyond the imagining of a woman who’d thought she’d spend her life thieving from rich folk in Ul’dah. Her eyes eventually shift from the image before her to the Ascian– the last of his kind. Instinctively she braces herself for attack, for something violent– but she prays, she hopes and prays and internally screams that this could end peacefully. That they don’t always have to solve things through violence. Emet-Selch’s words echo in her mind:
‘Don’t forget we lived.’
Twelve help her, this was something so much bigger than her. And yet there was an odd sort of… kinship with the Ascian she found. Oft feeling like no more than a weapon to be pointed at the enemies of Eorzea, Laika had hardly ever allowed anyone closer than arm’s length for fear of the image of a vaunted hero warping their perception of the person she was. She feared that many wished only to be close to her because of status and the life she found herself in was.. isolating. It was so, incredibly isolating. She in some ways understood the predicament Elidibus now found himself in (by her hand, nonetheless).
“I understand– that the world you see here isn’t the world you once walked as a man. I understand that there are paths on the land there that your people carved into the dirt eons ago. I–I’m sorry you’ve lost so much and can only look at the world now as a husk and nothing else.” Instinctively, she pulls against herself to consider her next phrase as carefully as she could. Laika was never good with words, eloquent phrases not often falling from her lips as they do those of more educated people. “You’ve lost so much. Yet you carry on– it’s admirable and yet inevitably if we continue on this path we both know we’ll come to blows. I’d like to avoid that, if I’m being honest.”
She laughs, it’s a hollow and bitter sound.
“Maybe in a different timeline you and I could come to an accord, strike a balance even. After all shadows do not exist unless light is there to cast itself upon an object, and light would never be recognized as such without shadow in the world.”
The world he stared at from this pleasant moon was not the one he was so used to. A pale reflection of his home, one not scarred from the burdens of plague and beasts. So clear in its blues and greens, the white and pleasant fields of deserts. Memories which Elidibus knew well of his own city and realm, tainted by the beasts of the first, the second, and the final monster. Those sacrifices. Those prayers. Those screams of help as all he could do was stand motionless and weak. And no matter how many times this beautiful landscape met his eyes, no matter the amount of hours or days or years he spent looking at the beautiful world that was once his own; all he could do was remember the pain and agony of those final moments-- and the final moments of his world before splitting.
How he resented it. How he resented the Bringer of Light whom stood before him on this pale moon. Like the Bringer of Darkness who came before her. And more that came before them: Unukalhai. So Ouroboros continues. That dreaded loneliness. The vastness of space and that black beyond an even paler reflection of the turmoil that festered within. And he would barely acknowledge her existence so far beside him. Noticing only how she tried to grasp air between her fingers. Pained her expression. And he gave her nothing. Only silence, only bitter resentment. Only that vast sea of emptiness before her and the burning hatred that licked her knees as she continued this crusade to defend the imperfections of life.
“Do you understand the magnitude of this?” There was doubt in her words. He knew these pale reflections of Ascians were sympathetic. But sympathy was only that. There was nothing in experience of being one of the last of your kind. There were no words that could ever explain, that could ever give the same emotion, as to be the last of your kind. To feel the burdens of all weigh upon your shoulders. To feel heavy and only heavy. He turned just slightly. His feet gliding across the white rock and staring at her so plain. Sorrow, grief, everything, was plain upon that blood mask. And his anger so deep a hole, so well hidden.
Elidibus’s voice was oddly calm, considering his predicament. “All species do what they must to ensure the continuation of their line. It is the most primal instinct. We Ascians are no different. I do what I must to ensure the salvation of this star, and of my people. Of you.” And as he looked upon her he saw why Emet-Selch was so soft for her. The soul within burned so bright and he knew well who it was that stood before him. And he pitied that. She would have done well to join their ranks. To be uplifted to the highest and see the world for what it really was.
“Should you end your crusade, Bringer of Light, I shall forgive you of your trespasses against me and mine kin. To let you live out the rest of your shortened life within the bosom of your Mother. But know that I will not break mine promise I had made eons ago and let Lahabrea’s and Emet-Selch’s sacrifice be for naught.” He paused, looking out into the vast expanse of space. The stars afar which perplexed even those Ascians eons ago. “But Emet-Selch’s offering still stands, as it forever will. And should you allow it, I will uplift you as I have Unukalhai for I am merciful.”
“But my mercy ends with Emet-Selch’s wanting.” // @lightsprotect
❝ ...--big goober. ❞ she said lovingly, in a loving manner. that was her wife, after all.
@lightsprotect
tol & smol ft. @lightsprotect !
RULES : repost & fill in with the words you most associate with your character.
ANIMAL : Dragonfly.
COLOUR : Pale turquoise.
MONTH : September.
SONG(s) : Hold - Built for the Sea ( Hydaelyn @ her in HW, I mean... ), Olafur Arnalds - Happiness Does Not Wait and Samuel Barber - Agnus Dei.
NUMBER : 3.
DAY OR NIGHT : Day.
PLANT : Calla lily.
SMELL : Meadow.
SEASON : Late autumn.
FOOD : Fresh fruit.
ASTROLOGICAL SIGN : Libra.
ELEMENT : Water.
DRINK : Spring water.
TAGGED BY: @catleha ; @onlyliberty ; @scionsect and @lightsprotect ( thank you! ) TAGGING: @faebond ; @crystia ; @daintycure ; @cymarei ; @breselin.