Just kidding, Jason loves all sorts of fruits, so it's hard to pick absolute favorite - put here's some and why:
Prickly Pineapple - He likes the fruit that fights back!
Pomegranate - Some deeper part of him took comfort on this fruit. It was only after running into his parental and having certain parts of him wake up that he understood why.
Peppers - Peppers are classified as fruit! And Jason loves his spicy foods. Spicier the better!
Grapes - another deep rooted memory of Zagreus' he doesn't quite understand yet... he doesn't like to eat them as much, but appreciates the plant.
Most sweet fruits as snacks, especially when dried!
Thank you for sending the ask! Sorry it took me a sec, had to narrow my answers down a little :')
Once, she spoke the language of her clan. A language developed all on their own, perhaps other Viera spoke something similar, but it was all theirs. As each day passes by, she loses a memory of another word she can’t quite keep a hold on. Now and then, she encounters other Viera and its like gears covered in rust after too long when she tried to answer them in a tongue that is familiar, yet foreign.
As an assassin and pirate, she has picked up phrases from around the world that are useful to her trades. She is not fluent in any of them however, since she is always on the move and doesn’t bother to learn more than necessary.
Not really a language, but Phoebe does hear and partially understand the elemental spirits of the forests. She was supposed to get inherit her mother’s role as shaman to her tribe, a position used to commune with the spirit of the Wood to protect the people and the forest.
@lukawarrioroflight thank you so much for sending that in! I had to do some official research but unfortunately there is still so little listed about Viera from the story that I try to loosely tie her clan’s village to being their own. Hopefully they give us more in the future. Phoebe speaks mostly common anyways!
Alun dabbed her handkerchief at the corner of his mouth. “You must be careful, Khagan.”
Biff stood still, waiting for her to finish. Or, at least, he tried. It took every onze of his patience. His limbs cried out for the release of motion, as did his fingers, as did his toes. The result was a grown man, drenched in blood, trembling with excitement and grinning widely (madly), unbeknownst to himself.
“Ye worry too much,” came his rumble of a reply. “And how long are ye gonna call me that?”
“As long as I follow you,” she said, folding the kerchief. “As long as your soul burns like a star.”
[ This is a long one! I had this really great idea for it, and I wanted so much to do this. So... only the first portion will be posted here, and the rest (including an answer from Danny at the bottom!) under the cut~ thank you so much for the ask @lukawarrioroflight! ]
[ “I trust you”, he was told. He had to turn to make certain he heard that correctly. No one had ever said that to him - to his face, anyways. Why should he be trusted? He never gave his name, he never took off his mask… there was nothing about him TO trust. “Lead on.”
The rain had made the air grow cold, and being drenched did not aid in this. Danny barely felt it, his clothes often too warm - he had offered it earlier, with it denied at first.
“Your coat grows more tempting,”
“Ain’t no shame in askin’ fer it.” Was his response, and he pulled robes up over his head to hand over. Perhaps it was the comfort he felt in his presence, or it simply slipped his mind. His arms free to show, with no coverings left on the slithering vines that made them up. But… there was no staring in response, there were no comments, in fact, it was as if they didn’t exist at all. Still, yet, he apologized for them.
“Ain’t too much a pleasant sight, but… kinda strange y’haven’t even stared. Tha’s usually th’response I get.”
“Well. That’s awfully damn impolite.”
Never had he felt so comforted by just one sentence. ]
[ After he had managed to shoo off the offending treant, Danny offered to carry him. A twisted ankle was no good to walk on. That offer was met with a smile, skeptical, at best - though upon scooping him up into his arms, he could only feel the heat filling his ears. He went to the safest place he could think of - his home.
“Yer welcome t’stay ‘ere s’long as that takes.”
He had laid him down on his bed to work on making that injury more comfortable, there wasn’t much else he could do besides offer some ice crystals to help the swelling. Danny turned to start up a pot of tea on the fire - and that was when his own wound was addressed.
“When do you think you might take care of that?” He asked him. He never really thought about it - though when he did, that’s when the pain set in. It hurt worse when he tried to pry his robes off.
“Sss.. ah. Ow. The back's always th'worst... would it, uh... be too much trouble t'ask y't'help me out in cleanin' it?"
This was probably the first time he had asked for help from him - he never wanted to be a bother or a burden, and usually handled his wounds by himself or with his mentor, but… there was something about him that made it easier to ask. Even if it was embarrassing. When his wounds had been properly cleaned and dressed, he stood again to retrieve something from a nearby desk.
"...I, uh. Made y'somethin'. T'thank y'fer helpin' me all th'time.”
Inside was a good attempt at making a sweater, and a carved wooden mask as gold as his own. That’s when he took his off, for the first time. ]
[ Danny rushed about creation trying to find him - checking every inn in the Shroud, even when he had to throw on a new disguise to get into Gridania. His excitement was met with less so from him - and:
“...it ain't hard t'see yer troubled. Guess that's why I wanna help so bad. I like seein' y'smile, 'n if I can help y'in any way, I want ta." He shook his head. "...I'll keep th'snowstorms at bay, if I can."
"...the weather's fine. Out there, anyway -- I know that. But I keep... I keep waiting for the clear blue to go that terrible steel-grey color, and the wind to start howling."
Danny had meant it in a metaphorical way, to try and keep him warm - comfortable. Maybe even safe. He carefully pulled him into his lap, holding him close, giving him a shoulder to lay against. He didn’t know what to do. For him, the silence was excruciating. All he could think was what he could say to make all of this go away - to make everything better - as unrealistic as it was. All he could think of… was what someone in his family would do for him. Sing.
"Loo-li, loo-li, loo-li lai lay..."
He was more than embarrassed to do so, his voice was soft, it shook with his heavy heartbeat. He had a hard time breathing, even. And yet… he still continued to sing, and since he had not heard any criticism, he kept going. Soon, it became easier.
He inhaled sharply, and let out his voice as clear as it could be; without hindrance, this time. ]
[ Vined fingers intertwined with his - and then some, as some of the vines on his arm seemed to just... grow like a magnet towards him and latching into whatever they could grab a hold of. He enjoyed his presence more than any other - everything he did was unconscious. Even when the previous events had made them tense, he still leaned against Danny’s shoulder. That small bit of contact… it made his heart jump. That he could be this solid pillar - or perhaps that's just what he wanted to be for him. The shoulder he literally and figuratively could lean on.
His thoughts were going every which way - there was so much he wanted to say to him. So much he wanted to do. It may not have been the right time, but… he pulled his mask off and near slammed it on the table.
"No. No, no. Not gonna do this t'm'self. Puttin' th'foot down thoughts, y'can't keep doin' this t'me."
Now or never, he told himself; and so whether he was prepared or not, or even wanted it or not; Danny leaned himself down to press their lips together in an awkward mess of a kiss. He paid no mind to the publicity of his face; he had forgotten, actually. Part of him hoped it'd last forever like this.
"S'Danny. M'name."
-
"Come, sit down. You're fretting over my scratches, but..." He let the rest go unsaid: perhaps it was sufficiently obvious.
"Y'don't gotta... S'fine, really." Danny pulled his tattered robes over his head - he already knew the more he griped the worse it got.
"...I know I don't have to. But have you considered that I *want* to?"
No, he hadn’t considered that. Why would anyone want to? He hated dumping his mess on others, but… no, he wasn’t going to argue. If he wanted to help, he’d trust that he wasn’t lying to him. There was no one else he would trust with that. He smiled at the thought.
"... Alrigh', alrigh', y'win... I get it."
More flowers sprouted from his arms the more he helped with his injuries - again. But… out of impulse, he bent to kiss one of the nodding flowers. It caught him off guard, causing him to shiver in response. The flowers, however, seemed to shrink back into his arms slowly... only for them to grow again. He wanted to know what they meant, curious as to what emotions where causing them.
"...Over'n over, so loud, they tear inta m'head; 'I love ya', I love ya', I love ya'.' Jus' takin' over everythin'... I wanted it t'stop... it was hurtin', m'head, m'chest, everythin'."
He admitted it - it almost hurt to do so. To think of it possibly being rejected…
"And what is it you want...?" The question might have been purely teasing, were it not for the way he held Danny's gaze.
"T' hold ya'... I always kept m'distance. I couldn't handle gettin' close, but... now I jus'... want y'near me." ]
[ He had come at the behest of Maximiloix - to see Danny after his disappearance a week ago. So many flowers grew from him - anger, betrayal, surprise… hope. A blanket of snowdrops grew upon the floor, crawling towards him at the door.
He knelt, brushing his fingertips lightly over the nodding white flowers at his feet. The feeling of his fingers on those flowers made him let out a heavy sigh - filled with some sense of relief. Calm.
He swallowed. "All I needed was to know was that you are alive,"
"...I missed y'a lot, I want y't'be 'ere. I jus'... can't let y'see me. Not like this." His voice cracked for a moment - it sounded like he were about to cry, if not holding himself back from doing so. "I missed y'a lot," he repeated. "I don'... know what t'do. I... I want y'close, it'd... help a lot. But I don'... y'won't like it. Disappear fer a few days, then lettin' y'down in the process."
"...there have been rumors," Aafter a pause, he spoke. "That the Wailers found you, that they---" It didn't bear saying aloud. "I didn't believe it. I couldn't."
"...M'sorry... I didn't want y't'worry and I went'n worried y'more... I'll..." The leaves settled, slowly withdrawing. A single stalk of violet hyacinths sprouted beside Danyell. "I won't do that 'gain... I'll come right t'ya'... I don' want rumors t'give y'news. Least, if I do die, Master Voilinaut would let y'know."
"I don't mind the worrying itself," he added quietly. "It is an unavoidable part of loving someone, I think."
Those words shocked him into some stupor. Maybe it wasn’t the first admission of it, but it just hit him here. Harder than it had before. He built up the courage to step out from behind the screen, to show himself and the injury that started it all.
From the broken side of the mask bloomed three roses, one crimson, one orange, one yellow. Willow branches hung from his eye - as if crying - pressed against the flat leaves of mint which covered the burn scars on that side of his face. "Completin' th'image, I am." He tried to laugh it off - it fell into a melancholic tone.
"Well, is it strange to find it beautiful, too?" He murmured with hesitation. When he looked up at him, Danny could feel unspoken words hanging there, waiting to be heard. But there was nothing.
“...jus' a little strange." Danny smiled against the top of his head, then lifted again to look at him. He could feel the heaviness, but gods, everything felt so much better when he was around. “Seemed like y'had somethin' t'say."
His eyes darted over Danny's face for a long moment, as if to reassure himself. "...gods be good, I thought I was going to lose my mind," he whispered, "thinking I might have lost you."
"..." There was still silence from him - not a common occurrence, being at a loss for words. "Won't happen 'gain... promise. If I gotta hide... I won't hide from ya'."
After gentle kisses and gentler touches, he pressed their foreheads together with a soft smile.
"Can't help it, jus' like bein' close t'ya'. Never had anyone as comfortin','' a pause, before he admitted: "as safe, before." ]
“Aye, ‘ve got someone I trust. More than anyone, actually. Master Voilinaut says that I shouldn’t, that M’askin’ fer ‘nother heartbreak. But… at th’same time, ‘e seems… proud? Regardless. Danyell’s been there with me, goin’ through everythin’- ‘e’s comfortin’. I guess only strangers would know th’sunny outside, n’while I believe there’s still sun on the inside, s’like there’s a huge wall o’ ice in between there… n’, n’ I don’t mind it. Sure, it can be scary at times, but… s’kinda groundin’ fer me. ‘E don’t get mad, when M’ all over th’place; ‘r upset if somethin’ comes outta m’mouth wrong. Errr, except that one time, but it was an outlier, ‘cause I didn’t really *say* anythin’ wrong - but I did *do* somethin’ wrong, ‘r well, not wrong, but definitely bad timin’.”
“Anyways, it was a slow process, I think. Over years n’moons. It was worth it, though. I don’t think I coulda asked fer anyone better n’my life. ‘E’s made me consider a lot, ‘bout everythin’. ‘Bout people, ‘bout th’Wood, ‘bout me. I said it ‘fore, I’ll say it ‘gain: I’ll follow ‘im t’th’ends o’ th’world if I gotta.”
[ And a tag for @renofmanyalts for their character, Danyell Dwynwen! ]
Mjrn has a huge love for animals, thus she treats them with respect and kindness. She finds herself preferring to be in their company rather than of the other races, including her fellow Viera. When she returned to Othard after several years had passed, she took in a Doman Magpie that had injured its wing and nursed it back to health. It has stayed with her ever since.
5. Is your muse comfortable with public displays of affection?
7. Is your muse the big spoon or the little spoon?
12. Is your muse easily flustered? Do they blush, swear, etc.
Muse: Ayo'a Ibori
5. Is your muse comfortable with public displays of affection?
Yes, he is. I mean there is a time and a place for everything, but a good hug, shoulder to shoulder, headbunt, tail touch, hand holding goes anywhere.
7. Is your muse the big spoon or the little spoon?
He naturally gravitates to being the big spoon, even if the other is bigger than he is, but ultimately it comes down to what is the most comfortable for everyone.
12. Is your muse easily flustered? Do they blush, swear, etc.
This man gets tipsy on one glass. You know it, I know it, don't give him wine. His cheeks will get even darker than they usually are, he'll slur his words and he'll suggest the weirdest things.
And yes, he also gets flustered easily without added alcohol. There still is a lot in this world he's not fully aware of and confuses him to no end. Swearing inbound.
Thank you for the asks @anpansblog and @lukawarrioroflight !
(You both want to spoon Ayo'a or something?)
of For every “⏳” I receive, my muse will openly talk about a bit of their backstory.
(Random generator picks...)
“The gladiator thing? That... was a bit of an accident. Due to storm damage, our ship from Kugane to Eorzea had to dock in Thanalan instead of La Noscea, and I think I confused the people who greeted us. I was asking for the guild, but forgot to specify I meant the Culinarians’ guild in Limsa Lominsa... a-and I was carrying a sword at the time so... that’s where I ended up. (In my defense I was very shaken up.)
“I didn’t exactly have any spare money in my budget for an airship pass at the time, seeing as it wasn’t part of the initial plan, so I ended up sticking with the guild’s program in sword and shield combat. Apparently I’m not so bad at it! If you wish to get technical, I am actually an officially certified gladiator... b-but not for the sport! Mostly in the shield-for-hire sense... l-like for adventuring guild jobs, yes? I wish they had a better name for when you are not an athlete.
