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Relationship Chart - Oscar
Chart created by @7thastralera. Blank form here.
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Papalymo: Papalymo was surprisingly patient with him. In turn, Oscar looked up to him. He still misses him.
Moenbryda: She was incredible. They could have been best friends or at least close to it had she been around longer.
More info on Scions on the chart is below the cut if you're interested.
City Lights
This place feels different now.
As if the city knows the one who built it is gone.
The city so familiar that I'd never seen. Built by the one who should've been my enemy but never felt like it.
You could've said something, but you just had to be difficult. The others may not have believed, but I would have.
I'll miss you, you miserable bastard.
Prompt 1: Formal
oh hey, look who’s finishing up all her prompts for Wolmeric Week like a month late lmaoooo
Post 5.3, relatively spoiler free post reunion-I-haven’t-finished-writing-yet moment between Aymeric and Serella. An attempt at normalcy, perhaps attempted too soon, leads to a moment of vulnerability. I’ve written and rewritten this prompt since the actual day of this, and I just need to Stop Wrestling with it.
Word count: 3,466
Punctuality was a priority in Ishgard surpassed only by godliness— regardless of social standing or involvement in the military, the city ran like clockwork, always in some level of activity, of movement and deadlines and bustle. To live in Ishgard was to be subject to strict social expectations when it came to timing. When to arrive (never too early, but never more than fashionably late without a very good excuse,) when was acceptable to leave (the later the better, until you had overstayed your welcome, the line between always being different depending on the host and guest alike,) and for every little moment bookended by arrival and departure. Daunting but for the most familiar and reliant on routine.
Years of etiquette schooling prevented Aymeric from bouncing on the balls on his feet in anticipation for his betrothed to join him in the foyer. Tonight was the first formal they would attend together following their reunion, after so many months of Serella being away on the First, and despite his best efforts, he could feel his excitement being gnawed at by the faint but persistent worry that she was taking so long.
Worry because she often took less time than he did, but also worry that something was wrong. When he’d left her to finish readying herself, her hair and makeup had already been done, surely getting dressed couldn’t take that long? What if something had happened? After another minute ticked by on the old clock in the foyer, he finally decided it was better to check on her.
FFXIVWrite2020 13: Reunions
Years pass. Lin disappeared for a few years, but Lyna knew she’d return. It can only mean that what she had mentioned in her hopes had come to pass.
But she returned, another weapon to learn. Many, in fact, over the time. Multiple forms of healing and casting for the most part, but after some time, she sets aside weapons and focuses on skills the Mean appreciates. She had done so during a time she revealed that the passage was unstable, but her skills weren’t luck any longer.
Almost a decade passes and for a few months, her visits become more common, but there’s something she plans, She asks for help from the Crystalline Mean (Especially the facets of smithing and gathering, but all have their uses).
Then, one day, she calls all the leaders of the Crystarium inside.
In front of her grandfather’s mirror, the portal Lin used to cross worlds most of the time, is an archway. It’s made of some metal Lyna doesn’t know, a handful of wires attaching themselves into the tower itself.
“Is this what I think this is?” Moren asks.
“It depends on what you think it is. Katliss and the Mean know the answer, as does Chai-Nuzz, given how they helped.”
Lyna speaks up. “This is a portal to your homeworld. One you hope will allow passage for any to travel.”
Lin nods her head. “I don’t know if any of you ever saw me look as if I’m speaking to myself. We’ve gotten the communication part down, but I wanted to keep it all a surprise for when I get to this point.”
She looks away. “I wish G’raha could be the first to step through, given how much he means to all of you, but this is untested, and we don’t know if my aethereal trail means it would work for me regardless of others.”
She flips a few pieces and gives a signal, her hand to her ear.
A few sparks arc between both sides of the archway, and then the area ripples to life, a spring turned on its side.
Lin takes a few deep breaths, but then starts to hold it.
Lyna finds she imitates the action. She hadn’t known what the plan was for months, but now?
Now all her hopes, everything she had written in letters, would come to pass.
A man steps through. White hair and beard, about an average height for a hume, though Lyna recalls hearing of a race that had passed away in the flood with that bead in the middle of the forehead. Another eye. Something about how they lacked a skill, or had a settlement too close to the flood’s origin to warn them in time.
“I told Nero we wouldn’t need to increase the power for a more stable portal. Everything Lin told us made me certain this world’s aetheric balance was not off any longer. I can’t wait to rub it in his face.”
The man speaks nonsense to Lyna. Who is Nero, and why is there an argument going on like that.
Lin chuckles. “I never doubted you, Cid. I will back you up when I return home.”
However, she turns to everyone. “If you have read the chronicles G’raha translated for you, then this is Cid. He’s the one who built the portal to the thirteenth when we sought to rescue three from the clutches of a powerful voidsent, the equivalent of Sin Eaters, but for darkness.”
Lin clears her throat. “And also the man who, in a timeline that no longer exists, sought to find a way to undo a helltorn world, wrote the first theory on how it could be done. Also my boss for the past few years.”
Cid’s cheeks light up at everything. “I cannot say much for the latter, but the middle point, I will remind you that apparently it took the better part of four epochs for me to write that theory. I only built on what you found of the papers. I will return to let those waiting to proceed. And ensure Nero does not try to fix the perceived power supply issue.”
It takes another few minutes, but the first to step through after Cid leaves is a face Lyna knows well from the sketches Lin frequently sends her way.
The aged face of her grandfather. Once upon a time, he was over a century in age, but had the face of a young adult. He’s an ilm or two taller, a longer face and wider shoulders, but the red hair and red eyes are the same. His hair still past his shoulders in a braid.
The man immediately finds her in the small crowd and hugs her. “I should have done this years ago, Lyna.”
She nods her head. Her arms wrap around him.
After a dozen years, she can talk to her grandfather once more.
“Now, I hear much of your children, I can only hope I get to meet the girl you named after me and her brother today.”
Also nochmal alles neu…
Jetzt stimmts.
FFXIVWrite2021 20: She is the rain
Lin smells like the rain, G’raha decides.
It’s a bit poetic, but he remembers how she’d sit on that arch in the Crystarium every evening and compose. First the piece she dedicated to him, the a few more.
Her favored title is Lin of the frost, but to him, she’s more like rain.
Not just the smell of petrichor, but the louder sound of water falling against the ground, the memories of the time they waited out a storm in a shed as children. She’s loud, but also nourishes the world around her. She’s not the only source of such, no matter what she felt before, but she’s there, full of life, loud.
And smells like the first rain of springtime. Perhaps it’s from how much time she travels outside, especially in forests, or perhaps he thinks she does because of the rest, but it’s there.
He hears thunder rumble outside, but he and Lin had no plans for today, so he can say curled up in her bed, in this house she got in Kugane’s Ijin District.
Lin sleeps easily. Perhaps that day helped her not worry. He’s better about thunder now too, but not that much better.
With her scent next to him, he can sleep easily.
FFXIVWrite 7: The obvious joke
Alisaie doesn’t let up on training him. G’raha tries to call on the shield when necessary, but her timing on her thrusts is random. She is difficult to read, but such is why he asked her to train him further.
“C’mon old man!” She shouts. “I thought you had years of doing this all the time.”
He grimaces. “I’m not an old man! I’m... Twenty four or twenty seven. Depends on whether you count the time I spent in the crystal tower.”
She thrusts again, and he gets his timing right with the aethereal shield.
“You’re forgetting about how you spent a hundred years on another world.”
He calls his sword foward and thrusts himself. “That’s not me. Just part of my soul!”
“Yeah, part.” She reflexively parries as she drips sarcasm from her voice. Y’shtola says your soul is almost as dense as Lin’s from what I can tell. And it’s still you. Still counts.”
“What about Lin then? Isn’t she an Ascian? What about the whole bit of her finding her shard from the first and merging with it, does that make her old?”
“The Ascian died first and has gone through reincarnations. That doesn’t count.”
She breaks his shield and sword and points her rapier at his neck. “Now. We need to start from the beginning, old man.”
