Lahabrea

Canon and headcanon-based Lahabrea of FFXIV, as written by Nay. Independent, private and selective, with both mun and muse of age and 21+. Established 24rd Apr. 2021. Might contain unmarked spoilers.

[unsundered-lahabrea]

So, after some consideration I’ll be moving all my muses to the multimuse blog @aetherstories​ . From this point onward, all replies and threads will be answered from that blog.

I will not be resetting any storyline nor dropping any thread, and I’ll keep many of the asks I’m still answering.That said, new plots (even involving more than one of my muses at the same time) are always encouraged.

This message will be repeated and queued in all my blogs.

[unsundered-lahabrea]

So, after some consideration I’ll be moving all my muses to the multimuse blog @aetherstories​ . From this point onward, all replies and threads will be answered from that blog.

I will not be resetting any storyline nor dropping any thread, and I’ll keep many of the asks I’m still answering.That said, new plots (even involving more than one of my muses at the same time) are always encouraged.

This message will be repeated and queued in all my blogs.

[unsundered-lahabrea]

So, after some consideration I’ll be moving all my muses to the multimuse blog @aetherstories​ . From this point onward, all replies and threads will be answered from that blog.

I will not be resetting any storyline nor dropping any thread, and I’ll keep many of the asks I’m still answering.That said, new plots (even involving more than one of my muses at the same time) are always encouraged.

This message will be repeated and queued in all my blogs.

[unsundered-lahabrea]

Little Eri pushed a drawing onto the Speaker's office table. With the most serious expression, the little boy gazed at him with eyes that were just like Lahabrea's. Was he waiting for a response? Possibly. He had never drawn himself with the other before, but he was family, was he? Eri liked to believe he was. "For you," he muttered, clinging to the edge of the desk because he was not tall enough to look over the edge normay and had to stand on the tips of his toes. Then another word followed that had just slipped from his lips. Papa.

Those were indeed his eyes, the very same color, the very same intensity as a paper was pushed into his table.

On her perch nearby, Phoenix soon chirped and hopped down to watch, and to demand some pets from Ericthonios. Lahabrea, however, was far more occupied looking at the drawing, and even smiling faintly at it, his ever-grumpy expression temporarily forgotten.

Ericthonios was his nephew, that was how he thought of the boy. It was Athena and Arachne's child, after all, he had simply been the one to give his genes when his sister could not. To be something else... would require careful consideration, and perhaps many serious conversations.

But that was not as relevant, to the boy now, and so Prometheus stood from his chair, and offered him his hand.

"It must have taken you quite the effort to come and visit me. Would you like to meet some of my newest creations?" He offered.

There were a few, and they would be safe, and perhaps the child would enjoy his visit, until Athena or Arachne appeared to take him home.

"Have your mothers brought you here?"

[unsundered-lahabrea]

morganaux​:

The hand upon his own set Morganaux’s heart aflutter, his ears wiggling as he reveled in the simple, yet reassuring gesture. It never ceased to amuse him how he had gone into their arrangement with the intent of never falling in love, leaving his heart closed off to any who would attempt to pry into it, and yet it seemed that every little thing that his husband-to-be did charmed him without fail.

“I do not fear the Inquisition in the slightest!” came his reply, given with a mischievous little laugh. “Considering what I’ve done for Ishgard, it would take a far more grievous sin than sneaking into a library to have them even think about reprimanding me. And I know that they wouldn’t dare lay a finger on you either, unless they’ve forgotten the last time one of my comrades ended up before the Tribunal. If they happen to not remember though, I suppose I’ll have to jog their memory if it comes to it.”

Though he spoke so cheerfully of facing the Tribunal without fear, knowing full well he would emerge victorious in trial by combat, just as he had done so moons ago, the thought of it all disgusted him. 

How many innocent lives had been claimed over the centuries by such a barbaric practice, all because they did not have the strength to defend themselves? How many evil-doers had escaped facing justice simply because they had the power to do so? Even if he only had the best of intentions, was it truly fair for him to do as he pleased knowing that there were no consequences to be faced?

Such questions were enough to put a scowl on Morganaux’s face as he contemplated them, though he quickly stopped himself upon noticing, praying that it had gone unnoticed as he slipped back into his brightest smile. The two of them were enjoying a happy moment together, plotting their first shared adventure, and he did not wish to ruin it by letting any unpleasant thoughts slip out.

Holding a finger over his lips in a shushing motion, Morganaux winked. “But, that’s all hypothetically speaking, if in the event we’re caught. Which we won’t be, because we’re going to be very careful about this. If Miss Phoenix loathes violence, I will do anything in my power to make certain that she will not have to bear witness to it! So, then… Shall we embark on our little misadventure on the morrow?”

The trials so very favored by the inquisition, even though slowly Ishgard was moving away from those, were a barbaric, so clearly mortal practice. It was also one Lahabrea had exploited so many times, manufacturing evidence when he’d needed to, the powers of creation still at his beck and call, despite his everpresent weakness these days. 

It was an amusing thought, to have Morganaux fight on his behalf. Then again, Lahabrea would not lower himself to fight a mortal in such a trial. 

Still, it was most curious to see the scowl in Morganaux’ face, to wonder exactly what he thought on the matter. To see the self confidence that once, in times long gone, before Lahabrea had become what he now was, he would have been fond of. 

He had been married, once. He had been a father, and a beloved professor. And as his mind went to those moments, even before Zodiark’s ever-present whisper could drown them, Lahabrea himself buried them. They mattered not. He was above feelings, he could only focus on one goal. 

He would still miss this life, one day. Or perhaps, he told himself, pushing away the fondness, he would not. 

Beside him, Phoenix chirped, preening at being addressed as “Miss Phoenix”, and that had him smile. Such a vain, gentle creature. Without her, he might have forgotten that there had been a time before so much suffering. 

“We shall.” Was his answer, smiling and yet growing serious for a moment. “Although let me be clear on something: I would hate for you to be hurt on my account. Still,” he added, before the tone overcame the general excitement of the situation, “if we are to undertake this adventure, it is best I retire for the night. Will you stay the night, Morganaux, or shall I accompany you part of the way?” He offered. 

He had enough guest rooms for the offer to be proper, and even though his now partner in crime did need no protection, he would still offer.

[unsundered-lahabrea]

Smash or pass for Athena for funsies. What does he think about his sister's wife

 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃   "  𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇   𝐎𝐑   𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒  “   𝐅𝐎𝐑   𝐌𝐘   𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐓𝐎   𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑   𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐘   𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓   𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒.   𝐍𝐎   𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃  || Accepting

"She is my sister's wife. On those grounds alone, 'pass'."

[unsundered-lahabrea]

smash or pass from both ariadne and emer

 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃   "  𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇   𝐎𝐑   𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒  “   𝐅𝐎𝐑   𝐌𝐘   𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐓𝐎   𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑   𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐘   𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓   𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒.   𝐍𝐎   𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃  || Accepting

For Ariadne:

"My love, we are married and have two children. You certainly know the answer to that."

He's smiling, almost smirking, the stink. And he also kisses her.

For Emer:

"While I would not have used such a word," he replies, "perhaps we should take some time to ourselves."

It's most certainly not a pass.

[loisnclark]

     𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃   "  𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇   𝐎𝐑   𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒  “   𝐅𝐎𝐑   𝐌𝐘   𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄   𝐓𝐎   𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐑   𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐘   𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓   𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒.   𝐍𝐎   𝐋𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃  .

[unsundered-lahabrea]

morganaux​:

That moment of hesitation before ‘Ivarault’s’ answer had not escaped Morganaux’s notice, and fully expecting his idea to be rejected, his lips parted in surprise as Phoenix answered on his behalf. 

During their short time together, there was one thing he had known with absolute certainty about his husband to be, and it was that the man had a soft spot for his bird. There were plenty of mages who saw their aetherial companions as little more than a convenience, and it never failed to warm Morganaux’s heart knowing that his betrothed was not one of them.

Offering a warm smile to the smoldering bird, he moved to sit upon the armrest of the chair the other ‘Elezen’ was resting in before reaching over to give Ivarault’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Terrifying? There’s nothing at all you need to fear, unless you count the scolding we’ll get if we’re caught sneaking around—”

Pausing, Morganaux gave a small gasp, a delicate hand reaching up to cover his mouth as he took a moment to rethink his plans. “…Actually, now that I think about it, you raise an excellent point. I imagine that security in various buildings of note has been increased as a result of yours truly.” 

He placed that same hand over his chest, thumping it twice for emphasis. “I suppose that’s what happens when someone has the gall to break into the heart of the Vault in hopes of detaining the Archbishop. But I assure you, I have no intention of getting us caught, and if that should fail, I promise I’ll protect you.”

Turning his gaze back toward Phoenix, a slight smirk graced his lips. “But something tells me she won’t give me the chance to be your knight in shining armor, should we have the need for that. I know I’ve yet to see her in action, but I feel like she wouldn’t hesitate to burn someone to a crisp if they even looked at you threateningly!”

Nothing to fear for the Warrior of Light, and nothing to fear for Lahabrea, and yet there would be much a common man would be concerned over. 

“Even if the situation is... different, you truly do not fear the Inquisition.” He commented, and it was partly a question. Then again, of course Morganaux had already won a trial by combat once. 

“It will not be easy to explain.” He settled for. “But... that means not getting caught, right?” He tried, seemingly still concerned, putting on a brave face. 

Part of it was true, nevertheless: finding himself needing to fight and showing his power, after having already been confronted in battle twice, would be quite the tell. And it wouldn’t do, not when he needed to survive and, he was considering, get Morganaux to his side. He would be most useful, albeit more dangerous. 

The thought of him being his Knight in shining armor almost made him snort, and he nevertheless misdirected it to his next words. Even as he gently set a hand atop the one Morganaux had set on his shoulder. 

“She would not harm, unless she truly had to.” He revealed. 

It was not entirely true... but true enough, and it would be useful groundwork for expectations. 

“She’s a healer, and a helper, and she dislikes violence. If I can help her avoid fighting, I will.” 

She would always fight for him. But she would hate every moment of it, and Lahabrea valued her too much to risk her in such a way.

“Thus,” he offered a small, amused smile, “you might actually have a chance to be my knight in shining armor, if you so decide.”

[unsundered-lahabrea]

it is time for ryne to back away slooowwwly behind a pillar . goodbye world she is gone .

"I know you are there." Lahabrea speaks, this ancient shadow that by all logic should not be there. This wraith among the living, with amusement in his voice and broken darkness for a soul.

"Not even the Light in this shard can hide an Oracle."

But he will not chase her. It would be most unbecoming.

[othaliak-deactivated20220904]

—— 

@unsundered-lahabrea​​ sent in a meme: &. 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬.  ❛ how are you still alive? ❜ 

Annoyance Rising. Blood Pressure Rising.  

Thancred wasn’t expecting to cross paths with Lahabrea of all people. Oh, the gods must hate him. These damn Ascians were WORSE than cockroaches. May he never know true peace? The twelve must be laughing from their sky palaces at him. 

“Tsk. Such audacity of YOU being alive. Haven’t you tortured me enough?” he asked with a huff. The vain on his temple was pounding and his hand was inching towards his gunblade subtly.  At least the other two hadn’t shown up yet….

….yet. They probably would. 

[unsundered-lahabrea]

In another life, in another time, Lahabrea might not have been able to read the slow, careful movement of Thancred’s hand. On another man he had not possessed, mayhaps it could have evaded him. But he knew Thancred, and he knew too when to be cautious. 

After death, after returning, he was now more cautious than ever. And he knew that Thancred was not unlike a hornet nest, better left alone now that Zodiark’s whispers no longer guided his every waking thought... but shattered pride was a strong motivator, and no mortal soul had ever escaped the Paragon before.

“I was alive before your species even existed, and I mean to live long enough to see its end. Do not sound so surprised.” He laughed, his voice soft, almost gentle if it weren’t for the cackle in its very tone, and the subtle threat in his words. “And truly, given Hydaelyn’s nature, I am surprised she ensured you lived.”

Then again, given how Lahabrea too had returned, perhaps he should not be so baffled.

[unsundered-lahabrea]

To write or not to write... a Star Wars OC

[unsundered-lahabrea]

morganaux​:

Full glad Morganaux was that Ivarault had not thought to question him about his time in Azys Lla. In the guise of idly twirling a finger in his hair, he began to weave a glamour upon his face, concealing the frown that threatened to take root there at the mere memory of that awful, godsforsaken place.

To show signs of unease was always an invitation for questions, and the last thing he wanted was for his future husband to try delve too deeply into the tangled mess of emotions he felt surrounding those final days of a centuries-long war. Morganaux had, admittedly, grown fond of him, and he would hate to scare away the man whose surprising ambition and wit were beginning to mend his heart.

Azys Lla had brought out a side of Morganaux that he never knew he had— a rage that rivaled that of the Fury Herself. His hands were meant to heal, not to harm, and though he was no stranger to taking a life, such an act was something he had never took joy in. And yet, it had been so satisfying to see the fear in Thordan’s eyes as his form dissipated into aether, and it had been a great disappointment knowing that the Archbishop had deprived him of the joy of slaying Lahabrea by his own hand.

Such cruelty did not fit a beloved hero like the Warrior of Light. Such cruelty had no place in the fables that would one day be sung of the Champion of Eorzea, and for the sake of those who would one day inevitably try to follow in his example, he would not allow the world to know how he truly felt during his last acts of heroism.

And he would especially not allow Ivarault — that poor, sweet man whose potential had long been stifled by the cold closed-mindedness of Ishgardian society— to be burdened by the truth.

Phoenix was not alone in noticing her summoner’s distress, as Peony left the fiery bird’s side to sit upon Morganaux’s shoulder, emitting a soft, melodious jingle meant to soothe wounds of the flesh and wounds of the heart alike. “It seems both of our familiars are feeling particularly cuddly all of a sudden, aren’t they?” the Elezen mused, letting out a small laugh. “I wonder what the occasion is.”

With his glamoured smile no longer necessary, he allowed the illusion to fade, blending in seamlessly with the real one his faerie had coaxed out of him.. “I do not think it will be much trouble at all getting access to the archives for a private research endeavor,” he answered. “Well, they may give you a bit of trouble since you aren’t the dearly beloved savior of Ishgard like I am, but I think I’ll be able to convince them to let you in too if I ask them nicely enough. And if not…”

Eyes lighting up with mischief, he let his head tilt to the side. “I know of a few secret passageways throughout the cathedral, including ones that lead to the archives. Let’s just say that I had a fondness for getting my hands on extracurricular reading material during my days as a student, and a desire to know everything there was to know about the academy I called home. Actually… This may be a bit more fun than simply asking to be let in, don’t you think?”

It was not hard to wonder, when one had all the pieces of the puzzle their situation was. Perhaps not all, but enough of them, as Lahabrea’s own memories brought turmoil to a heart older than the Spoken, to a soul almost teared into oblivion. Phoenix, his most loyal of familiars, was now even more attuned to him. She was afraid of losing him again, he knew, and he wished that thought had never needed to come to pass. 

He too wished, on occasions, that he could be left alone to heal, to try to drown out Zodiark’s ever persistent whispers every time he stopped for but a moment. At least, he thought, Morganaux’ presence, dangerous and threatening and nevertheless surprisingly enjoyable was a welcome distraction. 

His idea, nevertheless, had him blink in surprise, taking a moment to consider how to best shut down the idea -he was too weak to consider risking such an ad adventure- before Phoenix chirped enthusiastically, and the old shadow wearing the flesh of a noble who would have been too cowardly passed a hand through his hair -not his hand, not his hair, but it was not as if he could let that matter anyway- and then nodded, trepidation and yet determination in his gaze. 

A secret route would allow him to keep Phoenix by his side at all times, and he needed her. Just in case he needed to fight, just in case he needed to be healed. Particularly given how at any point, Morganaux might find out, and then Lahabrea would have to risk his very being again to retire to the rift. 

That might break Phoenix’s heart. 

Slowly, he nodded. 

“Very well.” He settled for. “I am willing to try that. See... your idea of fun. It sounds terrifying. Let us do it.” 

Emet-Selch would be mocking him for ages, if he ever learned of this whole mess. 

[unsundered-lahabrea]

morganaux​:

“Discomfort?” Shaking his head, he chuckled softly. “The exact opposite, actually. ‘Tis a worthy cause, ensuring that every Ishgardian, rich or poor, strong or weak can defend themselves. The commonfolk will have no reason to revolt unless we give them one. And besides, I would imagine that as a Haillenarte, the last thing he wants to do is to set an angry mob upon his own people. The worst that will happen is that we’ll have to endure my family’s incessant complaints about such an affiliation, but that’s only if they happen to find out about it.”

Once upon a time, Morganaux would have believed such idealistic words, but he was all too familiar with the anger brewing amongst the baseborn following the war’s end. Nearly every day, there were tales of nobles and clergymen being accosted by those who had been wronged by centuries of lies, and he would be a fool to think that there would be no consequences to Stephanivien’s plans. For too long, the High Houses had done as they pleased, living in excess while the people of the Brume starved, and such a plan could serve as perfect motivation for the nobility to be a bit more charitable with their wealth.

“So, if we are making a joint effort out of this, I know of a few good starting points we can work with!” Morganaux chimed, the very picture of innocence as he rose back up on his feet and set the blueprints down in the other’s lap. “My connections with the Scholasticate have afforded me special access to their restricted archives, and if there’s any place in Ishgard that has the books we need, it’ll surely be there. And maybe if you’re feeling adventurous, Azys Lla could—”

The Duskwight suddenly fell silent, looking vaguely lost as he started to think over the words that were about to come out of his mouth. He had been so excited to delve into their new research project that he had for a moment considered bringing his husband-to-be to Azys Lla of all places, as if that accursed land did not still weigh heavy on his soul.

Clearing his throat, he gave ‘Ivarault’ an apologetic look, ears flickering downward. “Ah, forgive me. I’m getting a little ahead of myself. Field research in such a dangerous locale might be a bit excessive, so do forget I said anything. So… Shall we pay a visit to the archives on the morrow?”

The people of Ishgard were discontent, and had been so for a long time. But they had had a war to keep them occupied, and now that peace was so tentatively approaching, it was the most dangerous time for all. Because indeed, Stephanivien had noble goals, but Ishgard had been long influenced by Ascians seeking to lead the mortals to destruction. It would not be too difficult for it all to fall and end in revolt. Despite recent events and reforms. 

Thordan -thrice he cursed that name in his mind- had been a failure of a plan, a moment of arrogance. Lahabrea had almost truly died there, and it was not hard to remember -curse his immortal memory as well- the day, and Morganaux himself there, before Thordan tried to finish the job. 

It took him forcing his expression into one of interest for it not to show his turmoil, detaching his flesh from his emotions for a moment. Never had he been so grateful, as he heard that name again, that he was not truly tied to this flesh. 

“While perhaps Azys Lla should not be discounted,” he managed, conciliatory, drowning the memories and the fear and the rage of a dragon who was but a wisp in time compared to Lahabrea himself but nevertheless driven mad by it, “the archives would be the best of idea. I have heard much of them, and I will not deny I am most intrigued by what might hide there.”

Phoenix nuzzled his shoulder, feeling his turmoil, and he scratched her head, slowly grounding himself. 

“Truly, it is a daunting prospect. Do you believe we will be granted access with ease, or...?”

Or did Morganaux have other plans?

[localpubliclibrary]

Okay hi new question for everyone:

Please reblog and tag this with 1) what you consider your cultural affiliation to be and 2) if you would turn down an initial offer of refreshment (food and/or drink) in somebody else's home. Answer options 1) Never 2) Maybe depending on how I'm feeling 3) Always

[unsundered-lahabrea]

This was the first time Erichthonios knocked at his father’s office door before entering. He was a little nervous, if he was honest to himself, and fidgeted a curious looking crystal in his hands. “I’m back -- ,” he announced - already scolding himself that it was obvious. Unlike the last time, his robe was not half burnt off but he once again had borrowed the concept of Ifrita for his mission.  Without asking. “-- and wanted to give you something for Father’s Day.” He put the crystal on the table. Fire aether raged within and gave the crystal an orange if not red colour. Fire made into crystal. The young man lowered his gaze and gently pushed the object closer to Lahabrea. It had the shape of the beloved fire creation; the creation Erichthonios had seemed to have formed a bond with. “She left this behind after finishing her duty. I shaped it in her image for you. One of your masterworks… thank you… for giving me the chance to live. You did not have to do it. Or allowing me to call you father.”

It was indeed unusual to hear a knock, given how Erichthonios rarely did so and the cloud of summons Lahabrea kept in his office had recognized him, and none as early as Phoenix, who preened happily in her perch. Unusual enough for him to raise an eyebrow as the door opened, his expression faintly censorious -the Traveler had indeed taken one of his masterpieces without permission- despite his absolute relief at seeing him there, safe and sound and returned.

The Speaker was not wearing his mask, moreover, and so his surprise at remembering the day had him blink, before his expression softened as he rose from his chair and approached his son, his summons making way for him as they demanded attention from Erichthonios.

He took the crystal gently, examining it carefully, before nodding, accepting the gift and the words, accepting even the tangle of feelings and warmth and also pain in his chest at his son's words. All he was thanking him for, he thought, was his birthright.

"Thank you for bringing me this, Erichthonios." He said at last, bright crimson eyes meeting his son's. "And, son... it brings me joy to see you pursue your calling."

He moved the crystal to his desk, where it would be safe, before deciding to offer something he'd been considering for some time.

"You have bonded with Ifrita. And yet, as she was designed, she is too large for life in civilized areas. You must have noticed, I am certain." He settled for. "Perhaps some modifications are in order, if you might like to bring her with you as a familiar."

[unsundered-lahabrea]

morganaux​:

A puzzled look crossed Morganaux’s face as he studied the diagrams, and twirling a finger in his hair, he let out an impressed hum. “A bold choice, allying yourself with such a controversial figure! I was warned by much of my family to avoid any form of association with him. They claimed he means to incite a revolution against the nobility with his weapons— a baseless accusation, surely. But you know how I feel about social uprisings and disobeying my family’s wishes.”

Fingers tapping against the back of the chair, he glanced off to the side, desperately trying to recall any bits of information that would be helpful to the situation. Though he was well-versed in the realm of aetherology, the application of it to weaponry was an entirely different matter, unless a grimoire or staff was involved, and he was quite certain that Stephanivien had no intention of suddenly deciding to become a mage.

Still, he had to at least try to be of assistance. The last thing Morganaux wanted to do was look like a fool in front of his betrothed.

“I must confess, my knowledge of firearms is… Lacking. Non-existent, if you would like my full honesty,” he admitted, once more reaching up to fuss with his hair. “But from a quick read-over of those diagrams, the design seems to heavily lean toward fire-aspected aether. Forgive me if I am wrong, but I believe I recall reading somewhere that the Allagans had used a combination of fire and wind-aspected crystals to power their firearms?”

Kneeling down, Morganaux picked up one of the blueprints, squinting as he gave it another look over. “It was something I read in passing and did not delve into further, so I am uncertain exactly how it works, but… When subjected to high levels of heat, wind-aspected aether tends to expand, and perhaps with a sufficient amount of aether, it could have a similar effect to the explosions outlined here, theoretically without running the risk of aetherial imbalance?”

He looked back up at Ivarault, his pale cheeks colored with a hint of red. “But that is simply my uninformed guess on the matter, so again, pray forgive me if my contributions are entirely off-base. I’m certain I’ve met a few people on my travels who have better wisdom to offer up than I do, if you would like me to put you in connection with them! Ah, there is so much research I am going to need to do if I am to be of any help…”

It was a bold choice, albeit one he hadn’t made publicly. He knew what to claim, were it noticed, what to push and what to deny, he had been nobility for too many lifetimes. Even if he refused to see the toll his relentless pursuit of the Rejoining was taking on himself. It mattered not. 

 “Does this connection cause you discomfort?” He asked, at Morganaux’s words, reaching to scratch Phoenix’s chin soon afterwards after he was given the thoughts he had asked for. 

They were, indeed, the principles of Allagan firearms, a marvel of engineering that he had overseen a number of times, as a scientist, as a noble, or simply as Emet-Selch’s helper whenever it had been needed. It was a good idea, nevertheless, and it didn’t escape Lahabrea how correct it was. 

“That is certainly worth considering.” He spoke, after a moment of consideration, after sifting through memories and knowledge and protocol, and ways to navigate politics. “Perhaps I should discreetly obtain a few books about the topic. Allag is a most fascinating civilization.” He commented. “I too will need to research it, perhaps we can make of it a joint effort.”

It will also help him keep Morganaux’s attention, potentially, of any secrets or connections who might expose the old shadow underneath a soft Elezen voice.