#smn things

[thecat-inthehat]

I can’t believe that Summoner punched a hole through reality into Valisthea just so they could panic adopt Dion Lesage and no one else

[thecat-inthehat]

Started giggling at the idea of SMN!WoL and G’raha getting into a furious screeching academic debate about Who Knows More About Allag And Why The Other Is Wrong

“—look at me, I’m the allag prince and I think I know everything!”

“I lived in the crystal tower for over a hundred years, I know more than you!”

“I brought back summoning from half discarded texts and a soulstone!”

“And you still don’t know the first thing about cloning!!”

[thecat-inthehat]

People keep being nostalgic for stormblood smn but I couldn’t fucking stand it. 2.5 minutes to get to Bahamut phase? Ew…

[thecat-inthehat]

I THOUGHT MY PHOENIX PHASE FELT A BIT LOW, BUT HOLY SHIT

[thecat-inthehat]

[breaks down the door] WE HAVE CANON CONFIRMATION THAT DIFFERENT LEVELS OF TEMPERING EXIST, NOT JUST IMPLICATIONS

For years, years!! I’ve been saying that it’s a thing! That the very existence of Sophia’s Enlightened, who showed humor, reason, and critical thinking skills, meant that tempering had to be something that wasn’t “all or nothing”. For years I’ve been saying that it has to be at the will of the Primal, for how much they’ve been tempering their followers. Which was further implicated when you talked to Emet-Selch!

[Shakes the Ascians] to what degree are you tempered, you little shits, come on tell meeeeee. Emet is the only Ascian that’s said he’s tempered, but considering how much personality he holds, likely just enough to ensure loyalty. But then there’s also the fact that he’s an Unsundered, so his soul is quite literally bigger/more powerful, so that could factor in (since the character theorize that Tiamat was too powerful for Bahamut) …. But then also there’s the question of how strong Zodiark *is* which throws its own wrench into the problem

Ohhhughhhfhfdf this opens up so many possibilities I’m so excited!!!

[thecat-inthehat]

For the ask meme about your WoL and NPCs!: Ysayle and/or a favorite job class mentor

Oooh~ This is gonna be fun~

[ask meme]

Ysayle:

In the Triptych verse, we use a slightly different system to define the soul than what canon does. In this particular verse, Ysayle truly is Shiva reincarnated, possessing her soul, while Shiva's spirit and personality rests with Hraesvelgr. As a close companion to Ratatoskr, and a friend of Hraesvelgr and Nidhogg, Strikefire met Shiva during the tumultuous days of the first war. There was a time of uneasy rest, and Strikefire was asked to act as a liaison between the two nations, and taught Shiva how to use her innate aether and wield it as magic. Shiva was a very lonely person at the time, and reached for the newfound freedom with both hands, taking in the tutelage as best she can. Strikefire slowly fell in love with her, and began introducing her to her dragon-friends, including Hraesvelgr. Shiva was unaware of Strikefire's feelings, and fell headlong into her whirlwind romance with the dragon while the war picked up fervor again. Strikey blames herself for what resulted, and hated that she could never confess her feelings.

Some thousand years later, she met the same soul who claimed to be Shiva reborn. Blessed with soul-sight, she knew the color of that soul instantly, and was extremely close to simply giving up the Scion business and joining this young woman on her mission, and was only held back by her fellow Warriors of Light, brothers Emmanellain de Fortemps and Suna'ya Molkoh. After the events of the Steps of Faith, Strikey was forced to reckon with the fact that this woman was not the Shiva she knew, but someone familiar-yet-different. To add to the tension of the road trip to the Churning Mists is that both Ysayle and Strikefire had been personally wronged by Ishgard's Holy See --Ysayle being a heretic, and Strikefire having witnessed Ratatoskr's murder, and that they could understand each other in a way that her brothers couldn't.

Strikey grew to love Ysayle as well, and fretted immensely over if she was actually loving Ysayle, or the echo of Shiva that she saw. They entered into a Courtly Romance, with little gifts being exchanged, and Strikefire almost swore fealty to Ysayle, the budding Queen of a new nation. However, that would've meant that Strikey would be rooted in Ishgardian politics and Dravanian soil, and after the wound that was Ratatoskr's murder, she couldn't really do that. It didn't help that Ysayle also was the one to spur Hraesvelgr into action after a millennia of stasis. The parallels to their first love were enough that Strikey quietly bowed out, despite being in love with Ysayle deeply. They remain friends, though now Ysayle is Queen of the newly reformed Dravanian nations at Anyx Trine, and regularly treats with Aymeric.

Ysayle's fondness for Strikey did help them out though, as she smugly sent hundreds of dragons and riders to help with the Liberation of Ala Mhigo, to the shock of the entire Alliance.

Y'mhitra is an invaluable part of Nive's life. Y'mhitra approached her shortly after Nive and Hel felled Ifrit because she was interested in an arcanist's input for a 'new' disciple of magic--Summoning. What started out as a simple work relationship developed into a true friendship, with both of them sometimes enabling the more insane ideas the other has.

I think the first time they really became friends was after a more disastrous attempt at giving Nive some summoning tattoos. The aetheric ink scorched its way through Nive's skin and burned off most of the fur along her arms. Y'mhitra felt horrible about it, and insisted on tending to the burn wounds as a trained healer. This led to both of them tripping over themselves to apologize, only to end up giggling at the absurdity of the situation out of sheer relief and adrenaline. From there they started going about things in a more languid manner, and made sure that the other was comfortable with what was going on and what the process was going to entail.

Nive might also have a crush on her. Y'mhitra is very solidly Her Type.

[thecat-inthehat]

Hm. On the whole subject of getting rid of DoTs for smn—

Personally, I liked that smn was a dot management class in 3.x/4.x, but the actual identity of it felt odd. There’s no rhyme or reason as to why Summoner should graduate from a class that primarily infects physical sickness into your enemies into what it is, and the transition felt off to me for the longest time. Granted, the smn quests do talk about how you’re basically resurrecting an ancient art from the dead, and carbu summoning is kind of close enough for Y’mhitra’s purposes. But. Not enough IMO.

I dunno. Sure, there’s some vague similarities that you could call up about how tempering is a kind of sickness, and Arcanima does the same? But then the actual jobs themselves are just so dissimilar — Arcanima is all about math and geometries, while smn is “ancient rites” and “bathing in primal aether”

[thecat-inthehat]

Nive’s shrill hiss echoed slightly in the room they were in, bouncing around the walls of the Rising Stones. 

“Sorry,” Y’mhitra murmured, but she was too distracted to give a genuine apology. “Stay still, I almost have it.” 

Nive nodded and bit a knuckle, her fang worrying the skin and threatening to draw blood. “Do all tattoos hurt so much?” She asked plaintively, the sound coming out muffled from the finger in her mouth. 

“Not really, no,” Y’mhitra said apologetically. “Since we’re using aetheric ink instead of regular ink, and with the patterns blooming into spells as I work…” 

“Right. So most tattoos don’t come with the burning sensation,” Nive said, flexing her other claw into the crate she was sitting on. It already had scores of her other marks from how long this particular session had gone on for. 

“Most mages don’t do experimental summoning tattoos that are more art than science,” Y’mhitra corrected wryly. “I’m told regular tattoos are a light pinching sensation, or something of the like.” 

“Oh, what I wouldn’t give for that,” Nive muttered, and stifled another gasp as the ink burned with aether as it sunk into her skin. “There has to be a better procedure.”

“Well, we’ve looked at all our records—“ 

“And found no other procedures, I know,” Nive hissed, her ears going flat against her skull. “But our records are so incomplete, who’s to say that we can’t find more in Saint Coinach’s or in some tomestones?” 

“Do you wish to bargain with Rowena?” Y’mhitra asked mildly, and sat back to examine her work so far, her hands light and quick as she touched Nive’s thigh. Her quill scratched a thin line on the inside of Nive’s leg, and the line of mythrite ink scorched its way into her skin. Nive clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from yelling but didn’t quite succeed, only cutting off about half the sound. Her head thunked back against the wall behind her, and her claws nearly broke the crate she was sitting on in half. 

“Come now, it’s not even that big,” Y’mhitra chided gently, though her eyes were worried. “You’ve taken more.” 

Nive inhaled and let out a slow breath, and carefully unstuck her claws from the crate. “... I’m fine. Keep going.” 

“You know, you ladies really shouldn’t be doing this sort of thing in public… I’m sure Y’shtola wouldn’t appreciate learning her younger sister—” Thancred drawled from the hall, poking his head in. 

Abruptly, Nive realized how it must look -- Y’mhitra on her knees between Nive’s thighs, working diligently at something, with Nive’s head thrown back against the wall and stifling gasps. Except her thighs were covered in ink, blood, and various cuts, and Y’mhitra’s hand held a sharp scalpel-quill. 

“Er…” Thancred backpedaled, holding up his hands. “Just what are you two doing?” 

“If you’re going to interrupt, you could at least be useful and grab a wet rag from the counter,” Y’mhitra said, brandishing her scalpel dangerously at him. 

Nive blinked at the Thancred-shaped cloud that suddenly occupied his space. She had no idea he could move so fast, though with how he acted after meeting Lady Yugiri… 

“So. Tattoos.” He said, coming back with a rag once Y’mhitra put down her scalpel. He rubbed at his neck where the Archon glyph rested, half covered by his ridiculous choker. “I take it this is a different process then?”

“Very. These are Summoning glyphs, with spells interwoven into them,” Nive said, gently lifting up her leg so Y’mhitra could wipe at it. “We’ve found evidence of other summoners having similar tattoos and markings, but the records are incomplete. We know that the tattoos augment their abilities, and used aetheric ink instead of regular pigment.” 

“Ah, so that’s why I sensed aether fluctuations,” Thancred muttered, crossing his arms. “... that must hurt—are you sure this is a good idea? I realize you two are trying to revive the lost art of Summoning, but…” 

“It’s just as much research as innovation,” Y’mhitra shrugged. “Summoning as we understand it is over five thousand years old. There are going to be differences between what could be done then and now.” 

“For an example,” Nive started, then winced as Y’mhitra wiped over the cut. “Allagan had used a machine needle to tattoo the subjects, having somehow managed to compress both ink and aether into the pinprick. Obviously we don’t have that.” 

“Right.” Thancred said, leaning back against the wall to watch. He pretended to be oblivious or a skirt chaser, but his eyes were quick and sharp as he took in the shape that Y’mhitra was working on. “But Arcanima glyphs can’t translate to Summoning, can they…?” 

“And this is where we’ve gotten to the innovation part,” Y’mhitra chuckled. “With her background in Arcanima, Nivelth is able to pick up the techniques much quicker than any other current discipline of magic. She has a soul stone, but the actual combat spells she uses are a mix of both. So, Arcanima glyphs to start, and we can proceed from there.” 

“And this particular glyph is for…?” Thancred trailed off, though he clearly had an inkling, from his years around the Twins and Urianger. 

“My carbuncle, Dusk,” Nive clarified. “Grimoire summoning only works if I have access to my grimoire. What if I’m captured, or it’s taken from me? I’d rather have at least some summoning spells at my disposal.” 

Thancred made a little nod, as if to say ‘that’s fair’. “Isn’t there the risk of the aetheric ink searing your skin?” 

“There is,” Y’mhitra said, glaring up at Nive from where she was between her legs, and twitched the quill dangerously. “But Nivelth has been rather insistent about this, so here I am.” 

“You know,” Thancred drawled, taking out one of his many knives and starting to slice into an apple, “if you wish to know how to defend yourself without a weapon, the pugilist’s guild in Ul’dah is always accepting new applicants.” 

“Thancred.” Nive’s voice was flatter than Momodi’s crepes. 

“Right. Forget I suggested it.”