The past belongs to the dead.

The future's ours to do with what we will. || Hilda Ware (FFXIV) RP blog. Affiliated with the Aldebaran Sea.

[commerceprotocol]

Hello id like to request a gift Thankyou. hilda

Thank you, Hilda! ♡

Your gift has been delivered to your room. Inside, you will find a…

♡ COMMEMORATIVE ENFORCEMENT PROTOCOL PHONE CASE ♡You hold in your hands a metallic pink phone case, lovingly adorned with a hot pink raccoon with gold details.

Be sure to come back soon!

[waretheredeyes]

northridden‌:

“Seven,“ they say, almost automatically.  It’s their typical response to any question of numbers, regardless of how appropriate it might be for the answer at hand; too deeply writ into their head to not be the first result.  “Depends entirely on how many people you’d intend to have in the room, wouldn’t it?  Or if you’re inviting them to the bed instead.”  

Hilda laughs. The captain’s face doesn’t show any hint of amusement, but their words sounded like a joke. “Good point,” she says. “In that case, I think I’ll go ask if I can buy that wicker chair, as a good luck charm for future meetings. Maybe you’ll have a chance to sit in it one day.”

She takes a step towards the door leading backstage, and then turns back. “Thank you for keeping me company,” she says. “I may be a while, so I won’t take offence if you choose to leave. In which case, I hope you find the chair of your dreams.”

[knifedindunwall]

open starter

[waretheredeyes]

knifedindunwall‌:

Daud frowns at the reply. So he’s not the only one who struggles using this cursed device. He’ll have to tell Hilda about the transcribe function. 

[msg] Meet me outside the Palilicium in an hour do not be alarmed when you see me

[msg] Bring

What could she possibly bring that would help in this situation? A collar with a bell on it? He huffs in frustration and shoves his phone in his pocket.

The weather in Crises has decided to be sunny and clear for once. Before stepping out of the front doors, Daud tucks his tail up the back of his jacket. He managed to dig a hat out of the back of his closet, an odd thing with a forward-facing brim. It’s uncomfortable to crush his new ears underneath it, but it’s better than the alternative.

He transverses a little ways from the entrance and finds a comfortable ledge to perch on where he can keep a lookout.

Hilda’s there in forty minutes. She threw on some clothes without really looking — her shirt might be backwards because something it feels wrong against her skin — and decided to bring her gun, just in case. Whatever is happening to Daud could be an enemy’s plot. Hilda has no clue what he could possibly mean by “turning into a cat”, but better safe than sorry.

Daud spots her before she spots him, and jumps down from wherever he was hiding. He looks very uncomfortable about something, and his fashion choices are doing him no favours. Also? Still a hyur, as far as Hilda can tell.

“What’s with the hat?” she says, and moves her hand to take it off.

[waretheredeyes]

knollknelling‌:

Taken aback– by Hilda’s touch and offer both– Knoll just blinks at her for a second. Then a wave of emotion crashes into him, and he blinks back a tear or two before drawing in a deep breath, collecting himself. 

“Thank you,” he says, “for the offer. I will be sure to keep it in mind.” Then he finds himself immensely interested by a delicate white flower with an incredibly log pistil, appropriately labelled “Cat’s Whiskers”. 

He perks up when Hilda starts talking about her world’s magic. “Black magic?” he asks. “That does sound like it could be similar… I wonder if it is.” Knoll says nothing more about it, but he is thinking excitedly about the topic. He wonders if there’s anyone else in the Ark from Hilda’s world who might know more. There is a second he considers voicing this thought, but ultimately he dismisses it as rude.

Knoll laughs slightly at Hilda’s comment. “True, the lectures I attended were hardly what I’d consider fun. But the research itself was fascinating. Combing through the texts, piecing together knowledge long forgotten like a puzzle–”

Abruptly he cuts himself off, the gleam in his eyes fading some. “It was… fun,” he says. “While it lasted.”

He blinks at the sign Hilda’s pointed out. “Corpse Flower,” he reads. “It sounds like some sort of monster, almost. But if it’s in here, it’s hopefully tame…? We can go inside, if you’d like.”

“Have you tried the library in Crises?” Hilda picks up the topic as they walk towards the corpse flower exhibit. “I’ve not visited, myself, and I’ve heard somebody mention that a lot of the texts are strange and not very helpful, but who knows — maybe there’ll be something there about magic. I could go with you,” she says, but then hesitates and chuckles awkwardly. “Guess I could keep you company, but I don’t know if I’d be any help with the books. Not much of a reader, you see.”

Hilda rubs the back of her neck. She hasn’t talked about this before, but she knew it would come up sooner or later. “I can read, my mother taught me — oh right, you know that, we’ve exchanged messages — but living in the Brume, I didn’t get much practice. Even less for writing. Not a lot of ink or clean paper in the streets, you see. Truthfully, I’m blessed to have the holophone, where the letters just appear fully formed when I touch them — my writing ain’t too pretty to look at. I’ve always felt embarrassed when I had to send a note to Lucia — she’s a Temple Knight, but not corrupt like the ones I’ve told you about on the train, and I’ve worked closely with her for some time...”

She’s vaguely aware that she’s rambling, but she’s not used to sharing this kind of feelings with other people. She isn’t even certain why she’s telling all of this to Knoll... but it doesn’t feel bad to let it out. Concentrated on her little speech, she doesn’t think to question why the bird in the anteroom of the exhibit gives her and Knoll lightly scented handkerchiefs as they wait for their turn to see the corpse flower.

“So, anyroad, I can read but ‘tis not the easiest task for me, nor am I the quickest. Hells, I’m right lucky to even know how to read, many others in the Brume didn’t — ‘tis something I’d like to discuss with Aymeric whenever I can — but. Well. I might not be great help in the library.” She finishes, and realises that she ended her monologue precisely where it had begun, just as it’s their turn to enter the exhibition. That’s when the smell hits her. She remembers the handkerchief and presses it to her nose and mouth. “What in Fury’s name happened here!?”

[rc-8018]

@waretheredeyes

Hope doesn’t much care for the Sea of Crises, for all sorts of eminently rational reasons, most of which revolve around how difficult it would be to prevent yourself from dying horribly there if it really came down to it. The streets feel like they were designed to diffuse and expose any force entering them, like a charge meeting ditches of pikes, and so far he has not found a single street that did not offer at least three sources of cover for a hypothetical enemy.

On top of that, it’s hard to get comfortable in a place where you’re as likely to step in blood as garbage on any given alley. It would be easier to ignore the rat corpses in the gutters if there weren’t just as many living, talking rats around to remind you.

All of that is to say, he doesn’t usually come here for leisure.

Keep reading

[waretheredeyes]

The Sea of Crises, Hilda thought, was the place she was most likely to find some sort of shooting range, but also the place she was most likely to get scammed. Still, she hoped to find somewhere she could practice that wasn’t just and alley with some boxes and bottles. She was certainly used to practising out in the streets, but that was back in the Brume, and the Ark — even Crises — was for the most part peaceful enough that she didn’t want to disturb anyone, especially since she hadn’t seen anybody else use a gun.

The rat she found after asking around seemed shady and kept dodging questions, and — well, Hilda was not surprised when the shooting range he promised to take her to was, in fact, a familiar setup of old tins on equally old boxes. He even had the audacity to ask for payment, and although the credits may be meaningless, Hilda still refused to give him any on principle. If you’re going to scam people, you should at least put some effort into it.

Frankly, she expected to draw somebody’s attention sooner or later. She’s not using ammunition and firing aether (which, she discovered, is greatly weaker here on the Ark than it was back in her world) is a bit quieter, but it’s still rather loud, and Crises’ streets like to carry echoes in unpredictable ways. So, she’s not surprised when a stranger pops his head out from behind a building, even if she is a little annoyed that she didn’t hear him approach.

“Target practice, aye,” she says to his question. “Just bought my gun back the other day; thought I’d try and see if I remember how to use the thing.” As she speaks, she lifts her carbine a little to show it to him, barrel turned towards a wall. “Sorry if I alarmed you. You don’t seem like one what’s easily startled, but I don’t think I’ve heard a gun here before.”

[waretheredeyes]

northridden‌:

“Live forever?  No,“ Alexis says, not quite understanding where Hilda got the idea from, “there’s still old age, of course, and some poisons and diseases can kill permanently.  Although if immortality actually works, nobody’s told me yet.“  Not that they’d be much interested in living forever – it seems as if it’d be terribly boring.

“It’s not a property of my world,“ they continue, “but the Neath’s not very good about keeping with normal laws, y’see, so anyone who lives there tends to do th’ same.“

“I see,” Hilda says. “What the fuck,” she does not say, but it’s not hard to guess that she’s thinking it. Whatever this Neath is, it sounds like a very strange place.

“Twelve above, how did we get here from talking about furniture? Then again, I suppose I’ve more to say about death than chairs. Back in Ishgard, I have one single chair in my room. I only put it in there after Lucia said that making visitors sit on my bed wasn’t exactly polite.”

She rubs her chin in mockery of deep thought. “How many chairs is it optimal for a cultured and polite dame such as myself to have in her room?”

[knifedindunwall]

open starter

Daud wakes up, and something is very different.

For one, his vision is back. It’s still dark in the room, but he can see everything, down to the text of the book on his bedside table. For another…

He stares blankly at the striped brown tail emerging from beneath the hem of his nightshirt.

Maybe he’s still asleep, and this is some kind of nightmare? He goes to stand in front of the mirror. Sticking out of the top of his head are two ears, furred and pointed like those of a cat. Daud reaches up to feel where they’re connected to his skull.

“What kind of oxshit–”

Hands shaking, he turns on his phone to send a text to Billie.

To: All

From: Daud

[msg] Can we meet somewhere discreet I have to talk to you

[msg] I think I’m turning into a cat

[waretheredeyes]

Hilda squints at her phone. She’s been sleeping until the beep indicating a new message woke her up, and while she’s not usually groggy in the mornings, it takes her longer than usual to decipher the message’s contents. Reading anything has felt weird on the Ark, like for a split second she’s looking at meaningless scribbles before they reform into the script she knows, and the effect isn’t helped by her having slept for maybe three hours and having drunk a little too much mead the previous night.

After a few moments she manages to successfully read Daud’s text and, failing to notice it’s not actually addressed to her, she types back:

[msg] your’e doing what

[msg] idnotn underastand but i can some over if you nreed me too

[waretheredeyes]

locuscaeruleus‌:

Hilda, Venom decides, is very nice. Or she is trying to manipulate him. He does know that she is leading him to the train station, and not into some dead-end alley in this labyrinth, but who knows. Maybe they just haven’t gotten to the dead-end alley yet. There’s still time for an attempted murder.

But really, he thinks she must just be nice. It feels odd to think that it reminds him of Eddie, at least the willingness to help a stranger. He has never completely understood that: it’s always been a charming quirk more than anything. He supposes that makes him charmed by Hilda, as well.

He is enjoying listening to her talk (human accents are so strange– does it qualify, if she’s an elf?) without feeling the need to jump into a response, trailing next to her as she leads the way. His gaze flicks over to the doorway a few seconds before the blur of movement spills out and bowls into his new friend, leaving her staggered: his hand reaches out instantly to catch her by the wrist and stop her from, perhaps, tumbling. He feels Eddie flinch at the gesture, stung by a feeling of inappropriateness and over-familiarity, but it’s blotted out by Venom’s concern.

“You alright?” he asks, before uncurling his fingers and leaning back out of her space. 

“Aye, I’m fine,” says Hilda. She’s back on her feet and standing upright, thanks to Eddie’s quick reactions, and she takes a look around, but there’s no trace of whatever dashed out from the alley. She sighs. “I’ve no clue what in the hells that was. Ain’t had aught like this happen to me in Crises before.”

Eddie’s reaction was indeed very quick, which she wouldn’t have expected from — well, she wouldn’t say it to him, but the guy doesn’t exactly look like he has his life together. She would have guessed he’d stand over her as she picks herself up from the ground and just mutter “oh geez”. Being wrong about this, she decides, is a small price to pay for not having her arse collide with the concrete.

“What was I saying before? Damn, I can’t recall,” she says. “Anyroad, we’re almost at the train station; I’ll be taking the train to Tranquility, so we can go there together if you’d like.” She pauses to collect her thoughts after the nasty interruption earlier. “Uh,” she adds, “did you say where you were from?”

[waretheredeyes]

knifedindunwall‌:

“No, nothing with four eyes,” says Daud. He slides the hook out and dips it in the water to clean it off. “It’s got teeth like a hagfish, though.”

He holds the strange fish up to examine it before depositing it in the bucket under the seat. “I’m sure it will be fine if we brine it.”

Probably.

Daud casts his line and settles back in. “You’re a natural at this,” he says. “Next time you can use the club.”

“I’ll let you have the first taste, then,” says Hilda. “I’m sure ‘twas just beginner’s luck, though. Watch me not catch jack shite for the next two hours.” Still, she affixes another lure to the hook and sits down in her spot once again.

“Could be that there’s stranger fish farther from the centre,” she says, having cast again. “Probably not something I should attempt on my very first fishing trip, but once I get more used to this, I’d love to try and catch something weird.” She chuckles to herself. “I’ve spent nearly my whole life in Ishgard, so I may be a bit drunk of an excitement of an entirely new place and no responsibilities that’d stop me from exploring it. Back home, I wouldn’t get stopped before the Steps of Faith any more if I tried to leave the city, but there’s always so much to do, and something urgent always pops up whenever I think I have a bell all to myself. A fishing trip like ours would be out of the question on most days.”

Her words sounds like complaints, but she’s smiling fondly.

[waretheredeyes]

[pretend this is anon] daud

i dont know her

[waretheredeyes]

daud, if you want

(this is for the ask meme i reblogged a decade ago where i am supposed to give my honest opinion on someone)

“The man seems torn between running from his past and embracing it. Me, I just know him as a simple and reliable bloke, and that’s fine with me, even if I may add the odd, er, leading question. Whatever he did in Dunwall — whatever relationship he had with that Outsider of his — these things only matter here if we want them to matter.”

[waretheredeyes]

murkymouth‌:

The woman is striking - tall, red eyes, pointy ears. All signs point to mutant, but not to what her power is. Besides looking like an elf, which: seen it.

I was pretty sure this was her bike, on account of her coming towards the bike rack to begin with, and her not being a bear. My deductive reasoning has no flaws, as usual, but her response is a surprise. “Yeah? Huh, that’s a girl I’d like to meet. She probably knows how to have a good time around here. Or at least how to start some fires.”

I decide to ask the obvious question, since we’re here. “Also, just so we’re clear: this isn’t your bike, right?”

Well, damn. Hilda was hoping to have a bit of fun while assessing the stranger and his intentions, but it looks like her bluff was a little too obvious.

“All right, you caught me,” she says. “The bike’s mine. Sorry for that bit of deceit there; I was curious what you wanted with it.” She steps up to the bike and runs her finger along one of the handles. “Don’t mean to brag, but I’ve got to say the Commerce Protocol did a remarkable job with it.”

She looks away from the bike and locks eyes with the stranger. “Satisfy my curiosity, then,” she says. “What did you want with it?”

[commerceprotocol]

Hello i would like to exchange one of my Buyback Vouchers for my Carbine which has been taken from me signed hilda

Thank you, Hilda! ♡

You have redeemed:- 1 buyback voucher (your carbine)

Be sure to come back soon!

[rp-memes-n-things]

Send me a character’s name and my muse will tell how they feel about them

[waretheredeyes]

i heard fray and hilda smoked fogweed behind the forgotten knight. please pretend this is anon.

“One time they even managed to get the good fogweed from somewhere. That was a fun evening.”

[sphinxmemesmusings]

Send me a very scandalous rumor about my muse to see how they would react.

[waretheredeyes]

northridden‌:

They shrug, with a half-sound of dissent.  “Nah.  They sell rooms there if you’ve the coin and the right trades.  But they’re not so fond of stained souls, so they took very badly to me staining mine while it was still in their possession.“  The brass jewelry and accenting had been more of an aggressive taunt, after that; it was easy to remember their doors being broken, burning eyes pulling them down and under with red-hot, burning, burning - it hadn’t been worth it to argue that they still had the contract and the room in their name, not for a year or two, not until everyone’d forgotten about them and the devils only kept a vague sense of embittered familiarity.

They were fond of the Embassy, that incident aside, but that was for… other reasons, best not mentioned in front of a more sensitive audience.

“Death?  Of course I have.  Lost track about four years back, actually, during a terrible spree of luck with duels.“  Alexis’ smile is a strange sort of polite, half-intrigued, half-enticing.  “You don’t come from a place where it’s so avoidable, I assume?“

“...Avoidable?” Hilda may not have the most extensive vocabulary, but she could think of quite a few words to describe death — and ‘avoidable’ is not one of them. This idea distracts her enough to make her forget about the whole stained soul business.

“No,” she says, “it certainly ain’t avoidable where I come from. To be frank, I assumed it was that way in other people’s worlds, and the Ark was the one exception. Turns out I know a lot less then I thought, huh?”

She shakes her head slightly. This conversation has been very, very strange. “’Tis all confusing, I must admit. I’m still not used to the way death works here, and I don’t know if I ever will be. In my world, death comes for everyone, sooner or later, and there ain’t aught what can be done about that. Anybody what’s tried to cheat death ended up suffering — or at least that’s what the stories say. Can people just live forever in your world?”