#veloestian

[quelfabulous]

Had the pleasure of painting a lovely concept piece for @veloestian of his most handsome elf.

[rishnea]

Commission for @veloestian !

[verkoh]

Infinity siiiigh. If you want a FFXIV OC, sidechat me and I’ll talk about em a lil

For: V’elpa the criminal catte

If I Think They Are: Ugly || Plain || Alright || Cute || Freaking Adorable || Pretty || Beautiful || Hot || Stunning 

“What’s that one word t’describe Seekers? Sun-kissed? With the blond hair and the tanned skin, he’s got’a very classic Seeker’s look, I think!”

If I Would Go On A Date With Them: Not even if we were the last two one earth || No || Maybe || Eh….Sure || Yes || WILL YOU MARRY ME

“Mmm, I don’t know him, so that’d be a little weird, yeah? Plus, ‘m pretty busy these days with Nyrah.”

If I Trust Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || With My Life

“Some might call me a bit gullible, but ‘m not that bad, t’just trust a stranger!”

If I Care About Them: Not At All || Not Really || Kind of || Yes || Deeply

“I certainly would help ‘f I saw something bad happenin’ to him, but even I can’t be worryin’ about everyone.”

If I Would Sleep With Them: Not Enough Alcohol in the World || No || Maybe if I were wasted || Maybe || Eh…Sure || Yes || TAKE YOUR CLOTHES OFF NOW!

“He’s pretty ‘nough, but I think I need an’ emotional attachment first, y’know?”

My Comfort Level With Your Muse: Keep a Distance || Okay You Can Stand There, But Don’t Touch Me || Let’s Get Coffee and Talk || Let’s Cuddle || I Can Change In Front of You || Let’s Take a Bath Together

“I’m always down t’chat with someone new! An’ personal space isn’t too much of a bother with me.”

If I See You As: A Stranger || An Acquaintance || A Friend || A Close Friend || My Best Friend || A Crush || The Love of My Life

“Seen ‘m around th’ Gold Saucer once or twice, I think! Maybe I’ll say hi one day.”

Send me ∞ and my muse will tell you…

[thanidiel]

Into the Woods

There is so much lumpy shit on forest floors!

Silvermoon is flat, flat, flat.

I don’t understand how Pathfinder Grandma and Stevenie walk so smoothly without their magicks.

I don’t understand how everyone else tracks shit out here either. It all looks the same.

He never actually gave us a direction or anything on these ‘Channelers’ besides that they’re around and needed to be rid of.

I don’t even know how to kill a troll - don’t they re-juv-erenate? Am I supposed to like, rub my knife in someone’s shit and stab them?

I shouldn’t have gone alone.

Shoulda asked Stevenie to come along.

She’d be good at this. Probably.

Better than me.

I don’t even know how long I’ve been in here.

At least I got water.

Red leather. Red leather. Druidy stuff. Troll.

I don’t know what druids look like.

I’m gonna assume they look like witch-hermits.

Oh- oh… oh.

I think that’s one?

Uh, crap. He has buddies.

Alright.

Think, baby, think.

I’ve done this before.

Kind of.

It was in an alley instead of a forest, though.

And I didn’t kill the idiots that time, according to the Church menders.

And I didn’t want to, anyway, because I had mail to run, and time is money.

But I’ve got this.

Somehow.

Uhmmmmmmm.

Step One: use my magick-y shit.

…

…

Done. They ain’t gonna see me or hear me now.

My magic smells funky out here.

Think a Magister-y folk would call it effer-esc-verent. Or something.

Anyway, focus. Focus.

Step Two: yoot-ill-ise my surroundings.

Tree. Tree. Tree. Bird. Tree. Root. Stump…

...Rock.

Rooooock. Rock. Big rock.

Just gonna… zip up there. ‘Cause they all distracted with drawing pictures on the ground or something. Wonder why they’re arting right now.

And now all I gotta do is… make these shadows eat up the rock too.

Now I’ve got a buddy. A quiet, quiet, buddy. For a big rock.

And… push.

Or try to.

Fuck.

Come on! You’re right on the ledge!

Shove! Kick! Shoulder-check!

Ah! Come on, baby!

COME. O- there it goes.

Rooooll on off, buddy. Like the silent meteor of death you are.

Theeere you g- ...Mmm. Oh.

That was the grossest sound I’ve ever heard in my life.

Sounded like someone dropped a horse onto a vat of cheesy noodles.

--Alright, alright. Focus here, Elv-y. What’s the next step? Two? No, we did two. Right, right.

Step Three: E V I D E N C E. Very important.

...well.

There’s no picking up that boulder.

At least not for me.

Maybe if Cow Guy was here. Or Sunspear Grandpa. Or Dawnmender Tower.

But I am none of those.

There’s….

There’s some body parts sticking out.

Alright, alright. I got this. I knew this camera would come in handy. And Vissy-boy said it was a waste of those crystals I got tipped.

Jokes on you, baby: it IS being used for something other than sleeping drunk people.

Just… gotta… finagle with this shit. And taaake off the lens guard or whatever. Because that’s important, evidently.

Okay.

Alright.

I did it.

Without Stevenie or Grandma.

All by myself.

Hell yeah.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

Seven.

Eight.

Nine.

Ten.

BOOM, BABY.

Step Four: Profit!

Captain Itrius Sunshatter finds an unreported envelope displayed right on the center of his desk in Kris in the next day’s early morning. Within, is a discordant polaroid.

The foreground possesses the ‘visage’ of the curiously-masked Pathfinder from earlier time, still enwrapped in her characteristic, contrastingly vivid, silks. In spite of her obscuring attire, her pride is evident with the twist of muscles around her lidded eyes and a wrinkle breaking across the scattered dust of freckles along her face. Oh, and one thumb brandished upward across the scene.

Behind her, is the deep forests of the province. Dark, lengthy, underbrush contrasted with towering trees and the crumbling dirtside of a nearby cliff so typical to Kris’ environment… and a rock. A big rock. A boulder, actually, rashed with wet soil from a scraping, hazardous journey.

Beneath the boulder, the wetness of blood blends in with the shadowed greenery of the grasses. But what cannot be easily looked over is… the evident fact that fresh bodies lie crushed underneath the terrible force of nature above. Hips, feet, arms, hands, ears, tusks, all sorts of body parts poke out from underneath their crushing fate. Scraps of their attire, following the known descriptions of the particular trolls known to the province, can be spotted as well amidst the mossy fur and sluggish wounds coating the visible flesh.

The faint glow of unfinished druidic engravements etch out below the gruesome display.

What a talent for framing.

She should be a photographer.

[Mentions: @retributionpriest @captainswingbeard @veloestian @sonofkhaz @stormandozone ]

[BIG BOI: @curiouslich ]

[pywriting]

SWC II: The Gamble Taken

Day 2: Write about something presently in your character’s life that is “worth it”.

The door closed with barely a sound, slim fingers making sure that it would shut with minimal disturbance. The woman had smelled the scent of a dinner cooking the very moment she took the first step into her apartment, and a smile played on her lips immediately. She brushed a stray lock of that dark red hair from her face, pulling her shoes off in the same motion and leaving them at the entrance.

Barefoot, she traveled through the small hallway, into the main living area and glancing to the kitchen that sat beyond a wide archway. Just inside, she saw the small dining nook already set with two seats and a candle between them. The sounds of cooking finally made it to her ears, along with some jaunty tune hummed.

More steps were taken, and there was the man responsible for all this. He filled the small kitchen, really, and he was barely treading that line of being a bit too tall for the place, yet as always, he was comfortable there at the stove. His blonde hair was ruffled looking, growing longer now than before and overdue for a trim, yet he’d kept it out of his face while he cooked.

She leaned against the side of the doorway, brushing her hands along her dress to straighten it some as she observed him with a smile. Even though she had felt troubled before about their situation, she was happy with him here. To come back home to another presence that she had grown so close to in the past short years. It warmed her heart and made those long nights of drowning her mind in wine seem more distant with each second passed in his presence.

She still had some doubts, some straying thoughts to how this was not going to end well for her, and that perhaps she should look for better options. They were there for her, and she knew it. Though she hated to admit it, she knew she was probably making the wrong choice. Even after her visit tonight, there were words that stuck to her still.

‘If things don’t work out, i’ll be here for you…’ He had said.

Yet, a part of her continued to disagree. Her heart yearned for him, body and soul. That little voice in her head telling her that it would be worth the gamble. That he was honest in his words, and despite his youth, he was so much his mother’s son. She had been honest with herself- with him.

She loved him.

Finally, he had turned to deposit some sort of cooked mix of vegetables and chicken onto two plates, blinking with surprise in his eyes as he saw she was there. “Oh! When did you get home?”

Roused from her thoughts, she just smiled to him, “Not so long. I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

“You wouldn’t have interrupted.” There was that boyish grin of his as he finished up. He put the pan in the sink and then wiped his hands off, coming over to her. There’d be a movement of her pulling away from the doorframe, and she expected his arms around her. Warm and comforting, he drew her closer to his soft body in a tight hug.

She closed her eyes a moment as she hugged him in return, tilting her head up to accept the kiss that followed after. It was brief, but affectionate. A small greeting between the two lovers.

Slowly, her slim hand reached up, brushing along his jawline that grew more bristles each day. A light blonde beard forming on his features, giving him a slight rugged look now. She murmured, “I love you, Rey’andan.”

His smile only grew more warm, and his eyes seemed to shine down to her at her little murmured confession. It had not been the first time, yet lately it had been occurring more and more. And she knew that he relished in such.

There was a bit of a laugh that rose up from him, and he said, “I didn’t think making you dinner would make you feel so affectionate.” He teased her playfully, then leaned his forehead down against her own, soon after saying quietly, “I love you too, Pyrar.”

The magistrix resisted wanting to snort at his teasing comment, instead moving to lean up again to press yet another kiss to his lips, uncaring for how their dinner might be getting cold or that residual doubt in some depth of her mind. She’d keep her eyes closed, keeping pressed to his lips with a deepened affection that came from the thoughts he had not heard. She felt his arms tighten around her, his lips parting with hers and the both of them forgetting just for a moment.

She wanted to just be with him, the man she chose to take a gamble with her heart once more.

The man Pyrar felt was worth it.

@stormandozone @veloestian for mentions

[pydoodles]

Work doodle for @veloestian

[thenaaru]

Christmas tree. I can't find the emoji help me.

u failure its right here 🎄

The halls of Dawnspire Keep were decorated with extravagance as always, festive cheer with no expense spared. Officially, Avie was there as Lady Silverbrooke to maintain relations with her fellow noble houses. Unofficially, she was there to visit her friend before the holidays. She was greeted by the brilliantly white grin of Lord Dawnstrider himself, sweeping down the staircase in all his finery with long golden hair immaculately groomed.

“Avie! So glad you could make it, it just wouldn’t be a party without you now, would it?”“Why, I do like to liven things up, yes.” The redhead replied with a cheeky grin of her own as she pushed back the hood of her finely tailored cloak. She was barely in the door before her was upon her, arm around her waist in one swift movement and green sprig dangled over her head with a sly bounce of his eyebrows.“I was going to hang this a little lower but I figured you would get there eventually anyways,” Veloestian said with such smooth charm Avie just rolled her eyes and placed her palm firmly on his face as she wiggled out from his grasp.“Perhaps, you’ll just have to wait until later, my dear~” She chirped at him with an annoyingly dainty laugh as she sashayed pasted him. Velo groaned and then laughed, tucking the mistletoe into his belt before following after her.

@veloestian SWERVE BINCH

[pywriting]

Missed

Another day passed, and she felt the regret of her actions still weigh heavily on her. The work that she’d occupied herself with only managed to frustrate her now, the numb feeling that entered her limbs making each stroke of the quill that much harder.

She wasn’t a fool. Pyrar knew why this occurred to her. She had caused this pain that felt heavy in her heart. She’d been the one to push herself into this darkened corner where she suddenly felt bitter and alone. Where memories of warmth seemed distant anymore. A place where even the cure she so often desired from the tall glass bottles would not numb away all the thoughts.

Would not starve them off long enough.

So, she found herself slipping into her training gear, taking hold of the shortsword she used for training. The door closed soundlessly behind her, the arcane enchantments locking away the heavy mess of her apartments in Silvermoon.

The mage knew that the fresh air would be good for herself. She told herself this time after time, taking in a deep breath and letting herself soak in the lowering sunlight of the afternoon. The streets were busy, as one would assume, and she even offered polite, ever so fraudulent smiles to them all as they passed.

This was something she could do. She knew how to make herself appear well. To appear as if the world was not in such a tight knot of troubles. She could offer all the right smiles, the right words, the right motions. She could distract herself with the focus of each step she took, each turn to take the right path.

Eventually, her feet would bring her to the training grounds. Many others there doing their own regimens. The various sounds and shouts from the pairings or groups. Laughter, cries of pain, frustration. It echoed across the expanse of wooden targets and ranges.

In no time, she found her own place. She pulled her hair upwards, getting it into an arcane assisted bun. Deep breaths were taken in, starting to stretch herself out as she just got warmed for the training.

Pyrar tried to focus her thoughts on the task before her. The various different movements she’d practice over, the spellwork she’d adjust to meet the criteria of the moves, the weight of her sword still at her side. Yet, eventually, it lead back to something else. The reason she came out, the reason she couldn’t finish her work properly lately, the reason she felt like her own apartments were an unwelcoming space, the reason she still tasted wine on her lips.

Shaking her head, she tried to instead draw out the sword, turning it in her hand and looking forward. The training dummy was there before her; tall, resolute in its post.

She took in a breath. Clear your mind.

She let the breath out. Focus.

Abruptly, she leapt forward, her feet guiding her forward as she fell into a rhythm she’d set in her mind.

One, two. One, two. One, two.

She brought the training sword along the wood, feeling the vibrations of each strike along her arm, tensing her muscles as they worked to pull it free soon after and bring the weapon right back to it.

One, two. One, two. 

She stepped back quickly, running her mind through the scenario she’d imagined for this.

He’d step forward, a sweeping strike. She’d quickly vanish from sight, the arcane magics collecting around her form and transporting her right behind his spot. She drew her sword back, thrusting it forward not two seconds later to pierce firmly into the thick cloth bags that surrounded the wooden dummy.

This continued. Strike after strike. She kept going. Not a time would she falter or stop, her breathing becoming more rugged and her sweat forming along her brows. She worked the same rotations of battle she’d trained in time and time again. 

After what felt like an eternity, she would finally stop. Panting for breath, she let her eyes close, taking a few steps back in a stumbling manner.

‘You did that perfectly… it’s absolutely amazing, Pyrar.’

She felt his hand on her back, placed so carefully there, yet firmly. His hold there to brace, yet to be in contact just the same. The warmth of his own body near, the glowing presence.

Abruptly, the woman opened her eyes, catching herself with a small gasp in of a breath. She knew no one was there- knew that he was not there, yet she’d found herself remembering it.

Again.

Again she’d done it.

She hated remembering in such a way. She hated how she felt for him. She hated that she’d allowed things to happen as they did. She hated the guilt she now felt burdening her.

And with that hate, she ran once more, breathlessly beating her sword against the dummy yet again. It was less smooth, less trained, less caring.

Her gaze fell from focus, blind to what was before her and instead only thinking of memories past and the ache in her chest.

Seeing him there next to her. The disappointment in his eyes as she said the words she’d told herself night after night. The warmth of his hands along her own, the sweet touch of his lips to her own that made her want nothing more than just one more night… One more…

Pyrar lost her grip suddenly, the sword clattering away to the side and her hands burning with pain. Even still, she bit through it, clenching her teeth as she felt the magic rise in her. Never would she allow herself to lose her control completely, yet times like this, nothing felt better to her.

The buzzing of the arcane surrounded her, and as her hands moved, so did the flow of energies about her. Sharp movements brought sharp blasts. The cloth sacks that hung off the dummy started to rip and tear apart, shredded from unseen forces.

The echo of his footsteps rang in her ear, the words on her tongue to keep him there. She’d swallowed them down, kept quiet on her own wants for the sake of his future, she told herself. Something he needed. Something he deserved. Something she didn’t have the right to take away.

The wood splintered suddenly, cracking under immense weight of blasts. Still she went on, her body flashing from one spot to the next, as if making sure this stationary target truly would have nowhere else to go. All her frustrations… her anger… her sadness was being tossed at this thing, entirely and utterly.

It had to be this way. It was the right thing for her to do. Even if it caused so much trouble in her mind now. This was the way things were. The way things had to be.

With a final blast, the dummy finally let out a louder crack. It shifted under the pressure of her strikes, falling forward just a bit before stopping where it’s own wood caught it. It was then that she finally would stop, stumbling back again as she found herself heavy with the exhaustion of it. She tripped suddenly, falling back onto the ground, and yet even then she didn’t care.

Pyrar found herself curling in closer to herself, cursing lowly as she felt the vibrations in her arms, the heat of her hands, the headache that was causing her pain. She cursed it all and how thinking such a thing like this would actually work.

So often, she’d come here with him. So often, she’d heard his praise. So often, she’d feel his gaze.

Nothing was here for her now, or so it felt. She felt lost without him there now, as if it was too quiet, as if it were too empty. Yet, even so, that was familiar to her, wasn’t it? That’s how things were to be, after she had lost everything before. What use was it to cling over this boy, this child who barely knew anything.

Even so, somewhere in her mind, she knew what he said was true. She knew that such was why she couldn’t manage to get him off of her mind and that it was the reason for her being so very lonesome now. More than a year with him at her side, and just like that, he was gone again.

Pyrar pushed herself up, feeling loose strands of hair fall down and cling to her face. As she focused forward on the dummy, she could already see it working to repair itself once more. The enchantments ingrained in it making it ever the useful tool for training. Her frustrated work was undone, piece by splintered piece, till all that was left was that same wooden dummy, staring her down.

She shook her head eventually, moving quickly to grab her sword. She hadn’t even taken the time to catch her breath, instead just moving away from this place. Away from the memory of it.

Away from her thoughts.

It wasn’t that long of a trip, and she did not smile this time. She did not offer polite nods or kind greetings, merely escaped. Back down the streets to the building she knew well. Back up the stairs that she’d taken countless times. Back to the door that swung open with ease under her touch.

Back to the heavy apartments, thick with the dark cloud that had hung over her for days and days now. It was only here that she finally collapsed… Only here that she let herself slump down, curl up, and cover her face with her hands.

She knew he was right… but everything in her mind told her this was the right choice, even if it caused such pain to her.

Pyrar missed him.

His touch, his warm smile, the way he looked at her as if she were the brightest of stars in the sky.

The evenings where he’d cook for her, let them rest together on the couch as they’d read their books or discuss various matters with magic and intrigue. The way he could keep up with her, the way he would manage to make her feel so comfortable even without her wines, the way he’d take care of her.

She wanted him back so very badly, yet she couldn’t do that…

After some unknown time, she’d pull herself up, repeating the same words to herself, reliving that same conversation in her head of when she told him it could not be.She took quiet, stumbling steps back to the her kitchen, to the rack where the bottles of wine sat.

She didn’t care if it was a temporary solution, if only it would muddle her mind and ease her of this burden she put upon herself. She didn’t want to think of the blonde ray of sunshine her heart yearned for now… she didn’t want to miss him… She wanted to drink… wanted to forget…

The bottle was nearly opened when suddenly, she heard a knock on the door. There was a long pause, some flicker of a hope. The words he said to her coming back to her mind.

‘I’ll wait for you.’

The mage turned, looking back to where the hall would take her to the door where this person may have been waiting, and then there came yet another knock. She shook her head, brushing her hand through her hair to loosen it down again, draping over her shoulders.

She ran through so many situations with him at the door. What they might say, what they might do. A million different paths, and she thought of them all in what felt like the eternity it took to step back to the door. With a deep breath, she unlocked the it, peeking out slowly with a certain degree of tension.

There stood a tall man, looming in her doorway. Golden armor, a pretty face, and a certain smirk on his lips. It took her all of a moment to realize that he was not that man she found herself wanting to see at that moment. She felt a heavy weight in her chest, the disappointment of something she hadn’t even realized she was looking forward to so much.

Yet, even so, she put on a smile suddenly… her disappointment masked by the surprise of his visit. Her mind rushed to find the name to place to him, thinking back to an evening and a day spent with him when she so needed the comfort of another there in this cold absence she felt.

“Ah… Lord Veloestian.”

She’d found her distraction.

@stormandozone @waraylon