#lionessofuldah

[xsynergia]

that just means that all of arr and heavensward take place in the same year

[thebullofishgard]

@elezenwildflower @lionessofuldah

Time meant nothing in the cave. The-- the man? The dragon? The beast didn’t know how long it had been there, couldn’t count the days even if there were days to count in the endless shadows. Days didn’t matter, though; what mattered was food. Hunt, kill, eat, the spiny, gummy fish and the fat little moles and the gristle-and-bone hippogryphs. Defend itself against the bigger things that smelled of darkness and rotten eggs. Keep warm in the icy chill of the caverns, find fresh water to drink, stay close to its brother -- its brother, the only other thing in here like it, slightly lighter than it and with a damaged eye but still its brother, it knew it better and with more certainty than it knew anything else.

All the food in the caves couldn’t fill their bellies, though, and it made them sick sometimes, and the cold froze them to the marrow if they didn’t huddle for warmth in their nest of ripped cloth and as much as they could forage for in this barren place. The water was good, at least, even if the food was bad, but it was hard to live on it all, especially with all their injuries from battle. But that’s what it had, that’s what they both had.

Until people -- people? it felt as if it knew those people, knew the symbol on their armor -- came in and there were sharp and pointy things and yelling and they fought back, clawing and biting at them wildly, but they were quickly overwhelmed, and it hissed and growled and roared at the people, snapping his fangs and pale purple eyes blazing with their slit pupils, and it tried so hard to get away with its brother--

But then they were dragged off into somewhere else, a lot of other somewheres, and it was warm, but there were so many strangers -- familiar strangers -- and it was scared and angry and...and it didn’t know what to do but hiss and snarl at whoever would come in.

[xsynergia]

♪

Send me ♪ for a song that reminds me of your muse

bonus: send ♬ for a song that reminds me of our muses together

A song about Merle: When You’re Gone by Mary Elizabeth McGlynn

[xsynergia]

ღ

Romantic attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extremeSexual attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extremeAesthetic attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extremeSensual attraction: none | very low | low | medium | high | very high | extreme

[alandeathweaver]

💛

💛 = In what ways does your muse express their love to their partner? 

Alan is very awkward about expressing her feelings -- she hasn’t done it often, considering any relationship she’s in is probably her first ever. 

But when she has feelings, she’ll...dote on you to the extent that she’s comfortable with. Sitting with you, making sure you’re doing alright, buying/bringing you food (she’s a passable culinarian so if she makes you Doman food u know she likes u), physical affection -- physical contact more than usual, really -- and smiles...she’s very subtle and lowkey with her attentions, but she will always show she cares.

[nangarlond]

//Little things about WoLs? Merle is the sort you'd think would be happy getting drunk when she can, but she's actually basically the forever-designated driver sort; she never has more than one alcoholic drink, but is happy to provide others with them and tease them gently about the silly things they do when drunk.

SEND ME THINGS ABOTU YOUR WoL

cid and merle can me the designated driver for life duo. cid does not indulge in alcohol very often, not anymore at least

[serguerrique]

@lionessofuldah

Merle looked at him oddly, then shrugged. She would figure it out soon enough. It would nag her until she did. “I’m afraid it’s rather easy for me to be familiar. Would you like some aid? I was to meet someone here, but they’ve not arrived yet.”

“Mm,” he says with a shrug. “Lot of people are. It’s not like Tailfeather isn’t the only outpost around here. People pass through all the time.” Let her think he’s lived here for longer than he has -- it’ll save him the trouble, and maybe she’ll just assume that’s how she knows him.

He glances from her to the crates and back and shrugs. “If you want, I won’t stop you,” he says. “It’s already taking me more time than I want it to, and the headache’s not helping.” Damned bloody hangover.

[serguerrique]

"You look familiar." The voice is tired, belonging to one of the Warriors of Light, the white-clad free paladin called the Herald of Hydaelyn outside of Ishgard for the moment. And she's looking at the man with wary familiarity.

He starts, straightening from being bent over to pick up a crate of chocobo feed -- one of many he’d volunteered to carry from where the merchants had delivered them to the stables. He frowns at the woman, slight hangover protesting and making him squint. “Do I?” He asks. “Well, you do, too, so I think we’re even.” 

Wait...could she be-- oh. Oh shit. Here’s hoping she doesn’t recognize him.