Tempest was confused by a sudden change in company, but the large xaela that had insisted he show her a new drink at the bar was a familiar and quite welcoming face. She was pretty sure she’d just seen C’tolemy’s eye twitching so perhaps it was so he could go take care of that. Baby feet in the forehead and all, something she’d been through before. Ayanga was keeping her attention mostly focused on the task at hand, but she did steal glance back at the fuming miqo’te glaring daggers her way.
“Baby moods gettin’ too him. The baby gets all angry and then you end up being full of angry because you’re already full of baby, and the baby’s full of angry.” The musing out loud lead to a few quiet blinks from those in earshot, but no one was interested in wading into a battle of wits with the blue haired woman. “Not like I said nothing mean or anything. Jus’ that maybe he should work on his pronuncification some.”
A mixture of getting used to a constant lack of sleep, recovering from the pregnancy still, and the raw chaos that was her schedule now managed to have Tempest awake before her lover on a regular basis these days. Mostly the time got spent tending to Little Storm and trying to keep the crying to a minimum to keep from waking Kasen, because she’d insist on helping instead of resting up to go work. Since the miqo’te wasn’t able to go handle her leve duties at this point, she knew the roegadyn’s earnings were all the more important.
Today however, was a different matter entirely.
Curiosity had been plucking at the back of her mind for a while now, and seeing the peak of her wife’s pale breast rise and fall in her slumber seemed to present the perfect opportunity for an experiment. A pair of comparatively tiny hands reach out and begin to descend upon the hapless globe as a whole. One focuses on giving little sweeps and tugs at the other woman’s nipple while it’s partner in crime grabbed hold of deep-set instincts to properly get a kneading motion going on the breast as a whole. Or at least as much of it she could get in a handful at a time. The thing was slow and steady, with a purposeful wrenching up of her features to focus on the task. All that care though does end up a bit moot as the Sea Wolf’s eyes pop open and set upon her feline lover. “Kitten? I ain’ complain’ but.. what’re ye doin’?”
“Trying to get your milk to come out. You c’n go back to sleep. I know it can leak out without you bein’ up. Happens to me lots.”
As the now familiar ‘my wife just said something crazy’ expression washes past the roe’s expression, she takes a moment to collect her still morning fuzzy thoughts and focuses on dealing with that statement. “I ain’t got no milk, Kitten.” Those words brought an immediate dubious furrowing of the miqo’te’s brow, who makes no effort to stop trying to milk her wife as they spoke.
“That doesn’t make no sense. I’m a momma, and I got milk. My momma had milk when she had my lil’ brother. All the other mommas I know have milk. It’s what the baby’s gotta eat! You’re a momma now too, so you should have milk and my nipples need a break.”
Another long breath works out of the roegadyn as she becomes forcefully aware of just how long her morning was going to be.
“Mgggrugh!” Warbling tones set upon by raw frustration rip out of the Keeper as yet another arrow went sailing past the straw miqo’te, a nunh in her mind, and over the cliff it was sat upon. There was quite a collection of them forming in the waters below, to the confusion of the local sea life and the annoyance of the catte.
Most of the young woman’s solutions to problems were applied violence. Punching, to be exact. It’s just that if you were using a weapon it was punching with extra steps. She’d long since mastered regular punching, foot punching, knee punching, and elbow punching. She was well on her way with sword punching, axe punching, and even occasionally shield or helmet punching. But she’d never been overly good at any form of ranged punching. Not that she’d ever had a chance to try firing a gun, but she wasn’t convinced it’d be going much better than the bow’s arrow punching was going at the moment.
In Tempest’s grand frustrations she fell upon a tactic she was not often fond of, despite Kasen’s encouragement to do so, and began to think back to things other people had said that she mostly remembered that might be of some kind of help. Unfortunately for her, almost all of what she did remember had little to nothing to do with bows. As she was about to give up and draw again one thought did ping the valley between her ears.
“You better cross your fingers if you do that, little one. You’re gonna need all the luck you can get!”
Who said it, and why? Both entirely unimportant questions for the time being. As she got her next arrow out, she stopped before notching it to twist the two fingers she was using to pull with across one another, and clumsily began to draw back upon the bow, and started to take aim at her target nunhy. Just about the time she decides she has her aim settled, she loses her hold on the arrow and it falls point first into the ground. That didn’t stop her from releasing the bow string already pulled, however, and sent the full force of it back into it.
The training weapon snapped almost instantly, and the sound made her fling it’s shattered remains away from her. The two halves of the bow and the string still connecting them spun through the air wildly before finally they impacted her straw target, with the two pieces of wood ending up partly wrapped around it’s torso. A rushed play of emotions worked through the Keeper, from shock right into fear, twisting swiftly into anger before taking a hard turn into joy.
Sure, she broke her bow but she finally hit the target with something!
Half-lidded pink eyes stare in abject boredom at the flickering flame atop the broad candle, waiting for it to do it’s work. The ‘bowl’ formed in the wax around the wick as it melts wasn’t quite deep enough by her highly advanced guesstimations, but it was getting close. An impatient pattering of bare feet nearly woke the nearby snoozing dodo in it’s make-shift nest under the table the candle was sat upon. Finally, with some mixture of believing things were done and being to fed up to wait any longer, the miqo’te snatched up the candle and made her way over to the edge of the large tub in the back room of the apartment. Tempest settled her legs down into the warm water, already having stripped down before she lit the flame in the first place, and then shifted her hips forward under her with her thighs partly spread. All of course to get a proper view of the wild tangles that surrounded her mound.
After a few comments about possibly shaving them off from her partner, the Keeper had overheard a conversation at their favorite bar about using wax to get the smoothest possible result. And little else of that conversation. So in her long line of efforts to spring a happy surprise upon her roegadyn lover when she got home, the dusky-blue catte had spent part of her day’s earnings on a large candle that she now held precariously over her bushy groin. As she started to tip the candle and saw the hot wax pooling to one side, she couldn’t help but grin at just how shocked Kasen was going to be when she got home.
Tagging @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast up top!
Today's story doesn't have Brem in it, and instead stars Tempest Lion, the worlds best idiot.
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With a grin that was working on actually eclipsing her face if it had it's way, the most dedicated local nuisance leve worker makes her way through the Mists with a sack full of freshly earned gil and her arms wrapped around an egg even larger than her head. Being that most of what she dealt with was creatures damaging crops, Tempest's renown with the local farmers had steadily grown over her many moons working out of Limsa. As such some that had taken a particular appreciation of her unwavering dedication to the less-than-flashy work would reward her with a little something extra than what had already been agreed to through the Guild. Helping to ward off puks coming for a dodo farmer's eggs was one of her favorites of these, because she nearly always got to head home and make a properly proportional omlette with her gift for both herself and her Sea Wolf girlfriend. She wasn't a stellar cook by any means, but with enough practice she'd managed to mostly get a hold of eggs, and this was one of the largest ones she's ever been given. Excitement was nearly pouring off of the young Keeper as she finally made it into their appartment home.
With the sort of loud, thumping steps that could only belong to a runty person who believed they were seven fulms tall, Tempest head on over to the stove that made up most of their 'kitchen' in the corner of the main living space, setting her egg to rest in a cast iron skillet for the time being. She's been instructed, rather repeatedly in fact, to not use open flame to cook when Kasen was still out working, so instead she sets a few fire aspected crystals into place beneath the skillet and partially activates them before going on to start peeling herself out of her bloodied armor. It wouldn't actually get hot enough to cook that way, but it'd be a head start for when she gets back to crack the thing open.
While she was working at a particularly stubborn boot however, the large egg started to shake slightly, rolling about the warm skillet it was in with each such tremor. These build until there's a crack forming in the shell, and finally an orange beak breaks through properly with a few fragments falling away. By the time the Keeper actually returns to her would-be meal, the upper half of a boggle-eyed dodo chick has emerged from what was left of the egg shell, wiggling and squirming to get the rest of it to fall off of it's tail end. After first recoiling from the sudden home invasion of a tiny dodo, her emotions immediately start to heat far faster than the cast iron the bird was standing in. "Wha... HEY! You are 'sposed to be goop!" To this accusation, the hatching lets out a high pitched wark at the large, angry thing addressing it. Not even a quarter bell old and it's already in trouble with it's 'Mother'.
Following her immediate gut reaction, Tempest darts forward to try and grab hold of the baby bird. The dodo lets out a startled wark and goes running out of the skillet. Given that it's not really had time to do anything, let alone develop advanced reasoning and motor function, it's little feet catch on the edge of the metal and with another sharp cry and goes rolling forward out of the skillet with a flail of wings and feet. It's sprawling form collides hard against the nearby wall, knocking a jar of honey over that sends a sizable glob flying out to land in the Keeper's hair before it starts to drain down the rest of the shift. "HOLD STILL YOU DUMB BIRD!" The cry of battle rings out as she begins to chase the panicked fledgling creature about the small kitchen...
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The muffled sound of a crash reaches Kasen as she's nearly trudged her way back home after a long day's work, with a hundred different thoughts about what's just happened to her Kitten just now. The Sea Wolf goes rushing to the door and throws it open swiftly, for which she's rewarded with a sharp wark and a vision of pure chaos. Shattered containers lay around half of the living area, there's any number of fluids, gels, and goops scattered and smeared over furniture and fixtures, as well as a thin dusting of flour over most of the kitchen space with several Tempest sized foot prints as well as the imprints of tiny forked feet running at full tilt. In the center of it all was the miqo'te with one ear pinned to her head by honey, a layer of white flour, and a jelly covered dodo she's got about it's tubby belly. Both are peering up at the giant of a woman as she stands in silence as a storm of emotions washes over her face. Taking the opportunity presented to her by the silence, the Keeper thrusts the dodo up as if to present it to the other woman.
Another guest star role by Tempest Lion! Please go have a look back at Prompt 11 if you want a short description of her and a picture! There’s violence against a bird.
The blue haired keeper picks her short sword back up off the ground, having just dropped it trying to do the ‘spin your blade in your hand’ move that she thought looked so cool when other people did it. Thankfully, the only one around to see it was her target and clearly wasn’t going to be allowed to live to talk about it. An almost mocking wark came from her foe as the fat dodo turn it’s attention away from the girl and back to the pumpkins it was currently pecking into.
“Cease, thief! Your fence ruining, punkin’ munchin’ days are over!” With as many clanks from her bronze armor as possible to join that announcement, the tiny adventurer came charging forward with a battlecry, turning what could have been a simple execution of a wild animal menace into an actual fight. Now that it was threatened, the dodo that was several times her size and weight reated around, dodging her first haphazard thrust and delivering several hard pecks onto the soup-bowl like helm she was wearing. By the time she’s got her shield up for cover her ears are already ringing, distracting her from the very exposed dodo belly in front of her. Thinking back to lessons she’d been given about fighting people and not birds, she takes a swipe at the hardened stretch of foot in front of her, cracking it slightly in a couple of spots and making the bird wark out again.
“I have you now! Prepare to meet your maker!” Throwing her weight behind the move, the little miqo’te shield bashes the bird directly into it’s chest, following up on her brief distraction with what amounts to mostly a strike to further rile the thing up. She’s rewarded with a body check from the creature that sends her tumbling head over heels backwards through the dirt. She’d caught a rock briefly along the way and had a nice cut on her lip that she lapped the blood from as she stared angrily up at the bird. Another shouty cry rips from her lips as she charges back in, and with a faint glow to her swinging arm she drives through a trio of mildly aetheric slashes at that rounded belly. Her sword is too short to cut much past fat on that first volley, but the dodo is still reeling from the blow as she recollects herself.
Raising her sword up above her head as if she was trying to collect the motes of that spent aether for a finishing blow, her bronze blade barely more that shimmers in the sun light before she rears back and thrusts into one of the cross points of her prior cuts, getting nearly up to her elbow in the wound to drive in to properly vital organs. With one last squawk of defeat, the dodo’s weight sags under it’s impending collapse. Pulling her arm from the corpse takes a foot pressed up against the belly, but eventually she stands sweaty and triumphant over her kill, already plotting what she was going to do with the gil from her leve plate once she finished up.
Departing from the constant stream of Bremwyda, today is going to star my girl Tempest Lion. She was found and raised by Hellsguard from infancy, earned herself a ‘proper’ name. Despite this she’s still very much an prime example of miqo’te who’s a dingus. Enjoy!
A gavel clacks against the wood a podium a few times to quiet the congregation of adventurers, ranging from cloth robed mages to steel-plated frontline warriors, lalafell to roegadyn and back again. All eyes turned up to the stage where the three leaders of the major Adventurer’s Guild establishments sood. “Everyone! Everyone! We thank you all for coming to this year’s celebration! The drinks will flow freely soon enough, but we have some official business to get into first!”
“As you all now, we have gathered all of the most accomplished and prominent adventurer’s here today that AREN’T the Warrior of Light. They’ve very much moved past the scope of the guild, and we want to reward those that fill the space between that one soul’s grand battles. We may not all save Eorzea near on daily, but the realm would collapse without the work that is done by our members. A cheer to each of you!” A roar errupts from the crowd, eventually filtering out to steadily more subdued clapping before the spokesman clacks the gavel again. “To that point, we have a very special announcement to get to today!”
“With the sponsorship of each great city of Eorzea and the Guild itself, we’ve come here today to award one particular adventurer for being the greatest example of what it means to be an Adventurer. Someone who started doing leve after leve of service against pests and worked their way to the height of what we can do. In the past year alone they single handed saved each Grand Company’s commander twice, three times in the case of Admiral Merlwyb, forced the surrender of an entire legion of Garlean soldiers, and permanently defeated and banished Vuknar, Primal god of the puk-puk! The grand award for very incredibly famous, wealthy, and very most best adventurer goes to Tempest Lion!”
Another roar of cheers rises from the crowd as a split forms among them, revealing a runt of a Keeper standing hands-on-hip in her full suit of steel armor, complete with nearly soup bowl like helmet, wearing a grin that might have fit better on a roe’s face than her own. Dashing up onto stage she shoves a fist into the air and lets out a wordless shout of joy as the cheers continue on, absorbing the appreciation and admiration of her peers on this most glorious day.
The black band of tattooed ‘mask’ on the miqo’te’s face has two pink portals pop open with a sudden and confused trill as she’s yanked out of her dream by the heavy thud of a hand against her chest. A couple of panic glances are tossed around the bedroom in the Mists she woke up in, taking a moment to realize it was the dead weight flop of the massive pale woman she was sharing the bed with right into the little Keeper’s chest. Light was playing through the window above them however, which mean it was more than past time for her to get moving. Bare feet pad about the room as she attempts to collect her under clothing and armor to get suited up for the day’s adventure, shooting a look back at the white haired roe passed out in bed. Staying at her place had certainly been a boon in many ways, but she was getting a later start to her mornings.
Pulling her soup bowl over her ears with a little struggle to get her ears in place, she turns back to the door ready to head over to the Drowning Wench and collect as many plates as they’d hand her. The dodos and puk-puks of La Noscea weren’t going to fight themselves after all!
