#val covington

[fair-fae]

"Put me down, you brute." tfw your himbo husband carries you around and you gotta pretend to be fussy about it @its-the-val-pal

YCH by basic pink bb

[its-the-val-pal]

Thanks to @zeiky for this lovely piece of my boy in his natural habitat.

[ink-dreams-ffxiv]

Though scheduling is what got in the way, I was reminded tonight, that the last time I made it to @tea-ffxiv aka The Shroudrose Tea House I met my Lovely Snowcatte, who became my wife. Here we are thanking the lovely @fair-fae and Val for having been there when we met, and for giving The Snow Catte the chance to perform on their stage tonight for the first time. It was a lot of fun, and it was a very happy memory to be reminded of.

[berrodarmstrong]

Berrod and Val had their first official training session; the first meeting had been a matter of education and explanation. The session involved matters of endurance. Val was made to take several hits in succession from Berrod, and encouraged -- harshly at times -- to either stay standing or get up when he fell. There was a limit to what he was made to endure, of course, and the training did not come without explanation. Berrod was somewhat satisfied with what he'd seen; Val was able to stand twice more than he had predicted. The two arranged to meet again to continue the line of training, and each assigned Val a manner of training to conduct on his own in the meantime. Berrod was cautiously optimistic -- Val's affinity clearly laid elsewhere, but if he could overcome this hurdle, he'd certainly be able to excel at the rest.

@its-the-val-pal

[fair-fae]

TEAWrite Day 4 - Chemistry

The Quicksand was a vile cesspit of sand and grime, petty crime, some of the most insufferable beings to disgrace Eorzea with their presence, and too high temperatures. It was also, unfortunately, an excellent hotspot for one in the business of information, and over the years had become a familiar (if not unlikely to most onlookers) haunt for Lady Covington as well as a place which held an inkling of nostalgia in her heart, despite her disdain. 

In the evenings when she had spare time on her hands, sometimes she would find herself there, people-watching, eavesdropping. With clientele ranging from storied adventurers to refugees from Pearl Lane who had managed to scrounge up enough coin for a drink, and the requisite atmosphere of booze and pheromones to impair sound judgment and loosen lips, the Ul’dahn watering hole was an oasis for someone who peddled secrets.

She sat at the bar nursing a glass of wine that was just passable enough, tuning out the chatter behind her in the room just enough to listen for anything that might pique her interest. A woman finely dressed from head-to-toe in all white tended to stick out in a place like this and attract attention of all different sorts, and it was no surprise to her when she heard footsteps approaching from her flank, peering from the corner of her eye just enough to see a darkly clad, masculine figure slipping up to her side. She knew how this usually went.

“This seat taken?” the man asked of the empty bar stool beside her, and she angled her face just enough to get a look at him, a tress of platinum hair falling over her shoulder. Well, he was handsome, at least. She tilted her head to the side, a smile curling across her pink lips.

“Why, I suppose it is now,” she cooed, gesturing with a gloved hand for him to take a seat. He promptly accepted the invitation, settling down beside her.

“Ya want anything t’drink?” he asked as her eyes drank him in. A scruffy jaw, a scar over one eye, a black leather jacket that didn’t quite hide those taut muscles beneath. Good looks that were just rugged enough to hold an air of danger. She finally dropped her gaze from him solely to peer down thoughtfully at her glass, only a few crimson drops still lingering at the bottom. The golden bands and diamond on her ring finger sparkled in the dim light as she wobbled the mostly-emptied glass around.

“I suppose I shouldn’t mind another glass of wine.”

He flagged down the bartender, ordering her another glass, and curiously nothing for himself. His pair of mismatched eyes settled upon her, and the way they roamed over her she knew was not so very different from how she had looked him over just moments ago. “So, what’s a woman like you doin’ alone in a shithole like this?”

She heaved her dainty shoulder into a shrug. “I had some time to kill, and it seems my husband was otherwise occupied. And what brings a handsome fellow like you here, and more specifically, to the seat beside mine?” She claimed her fresh glass of red, taking a sip and eyeing him with interest over the rim of the glass as she awaited an answer.

“Ya think I’m handsome, huh?” he asked, arching one blonde eyebrow at her. The cocky grin that tugged at the corner of his mouth told her clearly enough that he was already well aware, but he seemed to enjoy hearing the words from her lips, all the same. “When I see a gorgeous woman, I gotta shoot my shot. If y’ask me, that husband ‘f yers is pretty fuckin’ stupid t’leave ya alone.”

“You think so? I suppose it was pretty foolish of him to leave me all on my lonesome, not knowing what kind of ne’er-do-wells and dashing strangers may be lurking about. You, however, seem like a smart fellow. You wouldn’t do that to me when I’m in need of company, would you?” she asked, peering at him from beneath her lashes.

“‘Course not. What’s yer husband gonna think, though? I gotta worry ‘bout him showin’ up an’ tryin’ t’beat m’ass?”

A laugh bubbled from her lips, a conspiratorial glint to her light blue eyes as she leaned in close to him and lowered her voice. “Not if he doesn’t find out.”

He leaned toward her in kind, dangerously close now, his own voice dropping to a husky tone. She could feel his breath tickling her skin. “What say me an’ you get outta here an’ go some place a li’l more quiet, beautiful? Ya know a place?”

“I do, indeed,” she answered in a slow drawl, her gaze steadily holding his. “Mine.”

“Ain’t even asked m’name an’ yer ready t’bring me home, huh? An’ yer husband ain’t gonna be there?”

“Not if we’re quick,” she responded, a hint of mischief in her words.

“Well we better fuckin’ go, then, ‘cause I got a whole list ‘f things I wanna do t’ya.” He offered a calloused hand to help her down from her bar stool, golden band gleaming upon his finger. A half-empty glass of wine was left on the bar, long forgotten as the pair hurried with some hushed words exchanged and a single delighted giggle as he whisked her out the door, hand upon the small of her back and a sandy blonde tail swaying contentedly behind him. @its-the-val-pal

[fair-fae]

TEAWrite: Day 2 - Toll

The nightmares came less often now, but they still came, and perhaps they always would. It was something she had long since come to accept, a near indisputable fact of the world and her place within it, the price of survival. A full, uninterrupted night of sleep was a luxury she had learned to appreciate in those early moons when it was a rarity.

Faye saw her father’s sword swinging down over her head like an executioner’s axe to cleave her in twain. She saw Val gored on that same blade, speared right through the abdomen in a shower of blood and entrails. She saw her wrist, a bloodied nub, fingers that would not obey her, a hand that wasn’t there. She saw her father’s throat slit clean in two, spurting with blood, his once cerulean armor stained in red. She saw the look in his eyes as he rattled out those final words. The disgust. The resentment. The disdain. Death was all around them. It was the only thing that existed. “My only daughter… how could you?” She woke with a start and a strangled cry in her throat, throwing the covers from herself and jolting upright, soaked in a cold sweat and her breathing ragged. Her heart pounding in her chest, she stared down at her hand, a gleam of ivory metal in the darkness. She clenched and flexed her fingers, then rolled them one by one until the sensation of that numb, stinging static in her hand finally began to fade. Still there. Still working. Yet not quite. Frustrated, that opposite hand still of flesh and blood wiped away the tears that threatened her eyes and the hair matted to her forehead. She heard a rustle of the sheets beside her followed by the sensation of a strong pair of arms encircling her. The Miqo’te at her side pulled her back down into the bed and against the hard warmth of his body, pressing a lazy kiss to her clammy brow. “‘S all right, Princess. It’s just a dream,” he whispered, his voice still slurred and husky with sleep. Surviving was worth the price. @its-the-val-pal

[fair-fae]

@its-the-val-pal

[fair-fae]

@its-the-val-pal