The Black Wolf's White Hound

Livia sas Junius RP blog, affiliated with Isola Radiale.

[wolfswhitehound]

@wolfswhitehound // cupid shuffle.

to: livia

from: gaius

[txt] Are you alright? [txt] I’m on my way.

A good fifteen minutes pass before he’s at her door, hitting the door bell. Whenever she answers the door, he looks her over with a mild crook his brow–what would normally pass as a worried look among those who knew him.

“What sort of sweet did you consume?” He was quick to get to the point. He had heard of something going around the city and causing ruckus–but he knew too little else beyond that, having kept his attention primarily on Ichimokuren to distract himself from the stupid Heart’s Wake nonsense.

Livia groaned as she heard her phone go off. She only refrained from destroying it upon seeing that it was her Lord Gaius, answering her. 

[Livia sas Junius]: I have a mild fever. My mind feels unclear. My head feels light. I cannot stop worrying over the fate of my sister.

[Livia sas Junius]: I am also, of course, worrying about you... and I am even starting to worry about that imbecile Nero. Something is very wrong. Have I caught some sort of illness?

She set the phone back down, and curled in on herself, miserable in her bed. When he finally arrives, she forces herself out, wearing only her bodysuit. She was feeling too ill to care at the moment-and it wasn’t as if her Lord hadn’t seen her in much worse physical condition (she had a false eye to testify to that sad truth) anyways. She was pale, even more so than normal, as well, and was starting to shiver.

“It was... It was a chocolate cake of sorts. I saw others eating it with no ill effects, so I saw no harm in eating it myself...” She managed, before chuckling bitterly.

“Clearly, that was a mistake, and now, I am paying a... most bizarre price.” And bizarre was really the only way to describe it-what illness or poison would result in her feeling both stupidly emotional and feverish at the exact same time? She was no Medicus or any such sort, but even she figured there was no such illness or poison...

At least, not that she knew of. What was happening to her?

“....My Lord, if it’s not too much to ask... may we please take this conversation inside the residence? I... I need to sit down...” She was forced to brace against the doorframe in a moment of weakness.

Clearly, this was worse than she thought. 

@vcnbcelscr​

[wolfswhitehound]

GAIUS SIGHED. AGAIN. AND LOOKED to the young woman with a a tiredness that made the creases in his face seem deeper than they actually were.

“It’s truly no matter. The Warriors of Light are entitled to speak their minds, be it in a childish sense or otherwise. Just as you said to me before, take not their words to heart, for it is hardly worth your time to be angry on my behalf. As the younger folks tend to say nowadays, ‘it’s not that deep’.”

To hear at least that she will adhere to his wish and not extend her wrath to the Champions present on the island, he gave her a slow nod, “Thank you. As far as I’m concerned, my conflict with the Champions of Eorzea is ended. We’ve a new priority, and it would behoove you to hear me out.”

Lord Gaius had always been better at handling such disgusting insults to his person far better than she was. She hadn’t intended to annoy him, she just wanted to protect him... 

She was not used to the peaceful life. At all.

“Filthy savages, the lot of them. They should know better. You are not just some... what was the term again? Boomer? What does that even mean, besides being a derogatory term for someone who is older?” Livia wondered, having never heard such a term before. 

“...I sincerely apologize, my Lord. I... well, I think you know me well enough to know that I have a... temper, especially when it comes to you. And I think being stripped of what I rightfully earned after being resurrected from the dead and brought to... wherever here is has not helped matters.” She confessed. And, as much as she wanted to teach the filthy savage a lesson with her fists (her body still worked as it should, at least), if her Lord Gaius didn’t want her to, she wouldn’t do it. She would... show restraint. A restraint that they did not deserve, but she would grant at her Lord’s behest.

...She, however, did not expect what he said next. At all.

“...A threat greater than the Champions of Eorzea? What could possibly be so great a threat that you would be willing to at least be neutral towards them?” Livia wondered, genuinely confused.

@vcnbcelscr​

[sterrenlied]

✧*:･ﾟ| HE isn’t the sort to dance with violence - intentionally - though with the way the female carries herself, he wrestles with the concept that he might. A fight or flight situation. Around fighters, militarily trained fighters, he’s reminded too HARSHLY of his vulnerabilities and weaknesses. Of the place he’s locked in the back of his mind. Siebren keeps his distance, as much as it could be kept within a tight crowd. Without all of his abilities at his fingertips, he might as well be feeble, doddering.

❝WHY is singing ridiculous? It can help you focus or relax.❞ Caution almost forgotten as he scoffs, elbow resting upon the open palm of an opposite hand fingers curled against his cheek. ❝I have ALWAYS sang openly.❞

THERE isn’t much time for Siebren to struggle with his self preservation or lack thereof. He is plainly a STRANGER to the idea of pretending. If anyone doubted his abilities he’d show them. Once considered eccentric with the way he thinks and approaches problems, Siebren quickly struck down those naysayers with the intellectual equivalent of an asteroid’s impact with the Earth’s surface. Though, he supposes, it is far MESSIER to silence detractors with swords than with words.

❝I am Doctor Siebren de Kuiper.❞ Doctor, an interesting title at odds with his armoured frame and honed body. ❝A scholar in astrophysics, and on the side, an aficionado of the musical arts. I do not mean to sound PRETENTIOUS, but now that you’re here, is there a reason to be ashamed of, well, being here?❞

SPIRALE, a curious island, after all. If anyplace could reveal the true natures of men and women, perhaps it could be this.

[wolfswhitehound]

If she had her proper armor available to her, she’d probably be more willing to engage others, but as it was, she was not so foolish and reckless to go charging about, killing without reason or purpose... and besides, that was the behavior of savages, and while Livia was many things, a savage was most definitely not one of them. (Secretly, she really wanted to punch something. Or shoot that thing. She did not care either way.)

“I am a Tribunus, or, in terms that someone from a realm that is not my own can understand, a lieutenant of sorts. There is no time to be wasted on something as childish and ridiculous as singing. Not when you have to be on constant alert, ready for your enemies to come charging in at any moment, more than likely with great killing intent.” She countered, crossing her arms. Was he being serious? “I do not know what circumstances you were trained in-this is, of course, that armor of yours is not just some bizarre, gaudy thing for show only-that afforded you the luxury of being able to sing whenever and wherever you desired, but I was not afforded such a luxury... and in what twisted realm does singing some little tune actually help you focus?! Ridiculous!” She further added, his secondary claim sounding beyond ridiculous to the pure-blooded Garlean woman.

If he genuinely thought that was a good idea, then he likely would not agree with her homeland’s nature of brutal, bloody conquest. It was tiresome to her-the savages always resisted, and rebellions would rise left and right, which always meant that, in any land she was currently in, she was either on constant alert, waiting to punish any insignificant little brat that got a funny idea, or striking down swathes after swathes of enemies. It was not until that irksome Warrior of Light came around that she’d ever truly known resounding defeat, and that defeat should have been her last, as those breaths she mustered as she fell should have been her last. 

The powers that ruled this island were sadists, cruel and merciless, as far as Livia was concerned. (As far as those she’d help subjugate over time would be concerned, however, they’d all claim her being denied the sweet release of death was just and what she deserved, to say the least, but that was their opinion, and nothing more.)

“Hm. I am Tribunus Angusticlavius Livia sas Junius of the XIVth Legion of Garlemald... well, I was... my Legion was slaughtered in a massive storm operation conducted by the savages that, at the time, comprised the whole of the Eorzean Alliance. I had the pleasure of being slain by their legendary, divinely-empowered champion-the Warrior of Light... but, by means unknown to anyone I’ve met so far, I was brought back from the dead to... wherever this is.” She told him, waving her hand in a dismissing manner at the end. 

“Still, you may refer to me as... hm, I suppose Livia is fine. So long as you don’t insult me, I’ll accept it.” She decided. 

“Hm, a scholarly type, and yet, you wear such armor... fascinating, but besides the point. And I could guess that you had a taste for the fine arts-otherwise, I doubt you’d even be here. This place is not for everyone, after all.” She paused, and looked down. 

“...I am... not sure what to do with myself, now. When I was younger, I did enjoy a few things like this, once in a while. But then, I became a soldier, and there was no time for things such as this. And now... my Legion is dead. I have heard rumors that my fellow Tribunus, an insecure magitek engineer by the name of Nero tol Scaeva, is alive and also on this island, and I have confirmed that my Lord, Gaius van Baelsar, is alive and here as well... but what good is any of that besides knowing that I have two outsiders here that I know of, and don’t want my head?” She admitted, shaking her head.

“Nothing. It does nothing. I do not want to sit idly by and do nothing with my life, but what is there for me in this strange... utopia realm? Why was I brought here? Who is to blame? Still, I would imagine that a scholarly type, such as yourself, is any closer to being able to answer those questions than I am.” She finished.

Her Lord Gaius would probably be able to give her advice, but he wasn’t here right now. Maybe, just maybe, she was desperate enough that she might indulge this man and listen to what he had to say, and maybe, just maybe...

She might sing.

@sterrenlied

[wolfswhitehound]

This strange place was rather... perplexing, Livia had to admit. There were certain parts that were... charming in their own ways, and yet, at the same time, there were parts that made Livia want to punch the nearest thing she could, be it a person or a wall, hard enough to put a serious dent in it. (And, given her Garlean strength, there was very little she couldn’t put a dent in if she truly wanted to do so, but that was not the point.) At least most people weren’t at her throat, so there wasn’t the looming threat of death by... well, she wasn’t sure, there were a lot of different ways to kill someone, and she was learning new ones by the minute. Also, her Lord Gaius was here, so that actually made her feel joy. 

Putting up with that irksome Archon’s granddaughter was worth it for that reason alone. 

But it would seem that the little savage was not the only child Livia was going to encounter in this strange realm. No, there was someone else, who appeared to also be quite young-not a child, per se, but not an adult either-who was just casually walking about, near the strange not-ocean. And, as she focused in on him, she was confused. 

He was not of any race she knew. His physical shape was akin to that of a Hyur (like many of this bizarre realm’s residents), but her third eye screamed at her that there was something... more to him. Instinctively, Livia put herself on a higher level of alert. He didn’t appear to be armed, and she sincerely doubted he could be an actual threat to her, but she was not so arrogant and foolish as to believe that he was completely helpless.

...She also remembered that her Lord Gaius wanted her to be nicer to the people of this realm. She also remembered that the XIVth Legion did not exist here. Garlemald as a whole did not exist here, and neither did the Eorzean Alliance. It was highly unlikely that this brat had a clue who she was.

What did she have to lose? What better thing did she have to do at the moment?

“You.” She called to him. “What is your name?” It might have been a hint forced, but Livia was trying. For her Lord’s sake.

@pelagaios-a

[wolfswhitehound]

Livia blinked. 

“But it is clearly meant to be an insult against you, my Lord! That is unnacceptable, and the offender must be punished!” She protested. “You may indeed be in your older years, but that is not an acceptable excuse for insulting you!” She further insisted. And then, she sighed.

“...I won’t kill anyone if you won’t want me to...” She muttered. “...this time.” 

@vcnbcelscr

[sterrenlied]

✧*:･ﾟ| HE may have noticed her, but compared to the splendor on stage, he didn’t care. Not cruelly does he live in his own mind, but a necessity perhaps. It takes so much energy, so much strength and rigor to even breathe; with music being his own anchor to reality, Siebren chooses to shut out all else. He’s not everywhere and nowhere at once; HE’S HERE – inhabiting this single body, single mind, watching a single performance.

IT brings a tear to his eyes to feel such a release.

PERFORMERS are meant to be loved and appreciated. If only he could walk down there to the center of the stage and express his feelings in such a PERSONABLE manner. He wishes to pour out his love and energy, to shower the orchestra with gifts. Alas, to stand and clap and cheer is all he can do, but there’s so much energy in his BRAVADO that he’s likely to be noticed by most.

DESPITE his size - or perhaps in spite of it - Siebren struggles to his feet, struggles to leave. Despite leading the charge, so to speak, he’s left in the dust, left to mill about and await an opening. There’s a HYPERAWARENESS, a sharp focus, the sensation, the magic of the performance finally ebbing away from his WEARY bones. The man clues himself into every inch of his surroundings, every pebble beneath floating feet and every patron leaving the theatre. It is in this need to be grounded that he notices the armoured female and her humming. At first, he hums along to her tune, but after losing himself in the melody, he smiles, an awkward flicker of the lips.

❝THAT is a lovely song.❞

[wolfswhitehound]

Livia was, first and foremost, a Tribunus. A high-ranking soldier in Garlemald’s forces. A master of martial arts, and quite ruthless in nature. As such, she wouldn’t be caught dead letting any of her men see her here at all, let alone actually enjoying it. Only her Lord Gaius, her sister Lucia, and that bastard Nero (the latter by pure accident, and he only kept his mouth shut on the promise that she wouldn’t get in the way of his mad experiments... as if she gave a damn about what his insecure, petty, childish arse was doing in there anyways most of the time) knew about her love of music, and those same three were also the only ones privy to the fact she secretly loved to sing.

She would never be the type to be so... energetic with a display of appreciation for such matters. Instead, if she was truly impressed, she’d send a small, anonymous gift to the performers in question, and that would be enough. She had an image to maintain, at least, in front of the little peons she commanded...

Once commanded, she had to remember. Here, there was no Garlemald. There was no Eorzea. There was only other people... some from her world, some not. No one cared who she was, save for those who knew who she was. And, depending on the person in question, they would either want her head, fear her, or care about her. (That last one was really only from her Lord Gaius, if she was being honest with herself.) But none of that mattered in this moment. 

Her heightened senses picked up on someone harmonizing with her. She nearly jumped, and turned sharply towards the sound of the voice. A rather-large, armor-clad man was the source of the sound. He looked to be a bit older-more than likely older than her Lord Gaius, if she had to guess. But he was not making any move to threaten her, so for now, she would simply settle for being on high alert. If he tried anything, she could at least manage a retreat.

“It is one I have known since I was a child.” She explains, folding her arms. “However, as a Tribunus of Garlemald, I had little to no time to waste on singing openly. Above all else, I was a commander. A woman to be feared and respected. I would not have been caught dead doing something as ridiculous as singing in front of them.” She further added. 

“...Still... I suppose I should thank you. I... never really focused on my vocal skills, for reasons I am sure you can now understand.” She admitted, before leaning back slightly. Lord Gaius told her she had to be nicer, so she was going to be nicer. 

“...Who are you, while we’re on the subject?” She finally asked, deciding that was nicer in her eyes. 

@sterrenlied 

[wolfswhitehound]

A ridiculing gaze looked back at Kanon, or at least, her body language seemed as if she was looking down on her. The lady’s reaction to her innocent question seemed.. Rather weird. What does her martial arts or physical prowess have to do with giving an opinion? Granted, she had asked them out of nowhere, but it was still rude to be so.. prickly. In response, Kanon’s expression became sharper, drawing her back straight to her full height and and glaring at the other. The embarrassment she had felt previously towards her failure, which was out in the open for any to see, faded completely in her annoyance.

“I merely asked for your opinion, miss, please do not take such offense. To your martial arts and busy background, I am truly sorry. But, I merely asked for one’s opinion on the cake.. And despite your lack of free time, you are also here, correct?” The former ruler shook her head, glancing back at the failure of a shape. That wasn’t Chunpi, but the cake itself was baked to perfection. The merits of automation.

Kanon turned back to keep an eye on Livia as she took from the machine her completed… Disaster. “But since you do seem to appreciate sweets like I do, would you care for a piece? The gingerbread did not turn out as I had wanted it to initially, so it is useless for it’s intended use.” As if asking for a little bit of reconciliation, she held out her creation to the other. “As an apology for bothering you.”

Livia was unfazed by the stranger’s reaction to her comments. She was more than used to being despised and loathed by others. She did not care what most thought of her or her opinions on matters. If anything, the other woman’s sudden reaction actually... amused Livia. 

“Hm, so it has at least some degree of a spine after all. Interesting.” She mused softly, before chuckling bitterly and shaking her head.

“What I should be is dead, and yet, here I am, alive, breathing, and with my physical form mostly intact.” She said bitterly, looking away. “I am a disgrace. I have failed my homeland. I have failed my Legion. And... worst of all... I have failed my Lord Gaius. I have nothing anymore.” She admitted, more to herself, and thus, a bit quieter.

“Whatever forces govern this island must have a sick sense of humor, bringing me back, remembering all my failures, stripping me of my true armor-the armor I worked tirelessly to earn-and throwing me into this realm for what I can only assume is their own amusement. So, you’ll have to forgive me if I’m not exactly  a mother hen.” She concluded, looking over as she pulled out... what was that even trying to be? It at least still looked edible, and Livia did have a soft spot for sweets. She shrugged.

“Why not? It’s not as if I’m supposed to even be alive anyways, so what do I care if I end up with food poisoning?” She agreed, voice dripping with bitter, self-loathing sarcasm. She took off her helmet, revealing the hideous scarring around her right eye, pale white flesh marred by war. Emerald green eyes (though the right one seemed to be ever-so-slightly unfocused) scanned the area for some sort of utensil, and found one soon enough. She grabbed a fork, took the proffered slice, and leaned back against a wall. She began to consume it with the dignity and grace her Lord Gaius had personally taught her, and found herself... pleasantly surprised. It actually... tasted good. Not burnt, like she was expecting. She finished the bite, and looked down at the remaining cake slice.

“It is... surprisingly decent. Dare I say, even actually... somewhat good. Perhaps, next time, if there is a next time, don’t try to make some sort of complex shape. It is, if nothing else, a good apology.” She commented, before taking up yet another bite. Once she finished that one, she looked back over towards the woman.

“You. What is your name?” She questioned, though clearly more of an afterthought than anything she really cared about.

@duoduonociem​

[wolfswhitehound]

THE ROARING FLAMES OF THE Praetorium, decimated and singed to its core, never left his ears despite the years following that fateful night. Gaius, one of but many catalysts to the destruction that ensued, oft awoke in the middle of the night in cold sweats, gasping for air with heart pounding at his sternum. The burnt flesh of his right hand and shoulder glowered with the phantom pains; his spine jolted with the sharpest pain—the jutting edges of his armor having caused more harm than the padded cushions could provide against the injury of falling from such heights as the Ultima Weapon’s peak, and landing straight onto his back.

Such wounds, however, could heal over time. Gaius in his delirious state could only hope to rescue so many—many of which were now part of his immense network across Hydaelyn. The loss of his people—his loved ones included—were the greatest of those tolls taken, and he did not allow himself time to grieve. There was no time. There was no time. Vengeance was the priority. Justice was the demand. The lives lost and his trust broken, crimes committed against himself, his country, the people of the Source at large—all of it demanded justice. And justice he would deliver. He was prepared for every chance, every opportunity to make that promise a reality.

What he wasn’t prepared for—other than being sucked into a world not his own—was to see one of the most painful memories of all standing right in front of him. He had thought it a mirage at first—perhaps caused by fatigue—Ichimokuren would be disappointed, he was certain, at his complete disregard for his own sleep schedule. He pressed a naked hand to his aching eyes, rubbing them tightly and pinching the bridge of his nose. Before him was the armored Livia, one of the two children he took in following the inner conflicts that plagued Garlemald and took the lives of his friends. When he heard of her demise, his heart was broken. Rent in two.

He looked up, pale eyes displaying more fear than he was normally like to express. When the mirage didn’t disappear, his hand dropped and his voice caught in his throat. Her words betrayed her as the scared little girl he sought to protect and raise as a promise to her father, one of his closest friends. Over the years she had indeed become like a daughter to him, but his harshness and dedication to conquest in the name of Solus zos Galvus had steered both of them wrong. And such was his regrets in these now more recent years. He visibly winced at the letting of his title. His former station. Lord Gaius. No. That wasn’t who he was anymore.

He was not the ravenous wolf that sought to devour the nations of ‘lesser’ peoples in the name of his ailing Emperor.

“…I am your lord no longer,” the words came in a whisper, struggling on the breath of wounds still fresh brought to the surface before such a time as preparation could be realized. The old wolf limped on broken legs, docked tail and a crushed snout. Black fur dripped with blood, reddening the snow over which he dragged himself. The once great High Legatus of the XIVth Legion was now as pitiful as a wounded animal left to die in the cold.

“Livia…” Again on a whisper with the slow shake of his head, too pained to allow his own voice to crack, “Don’t do this to me…”

If Livia was to be truthful, she knew she was very much meant to be thoroughly dead and gone, slain by those filthy savages, corpse charred to naught but ash. And yet, here she was, body restored to mostly-perfection (she still had that nasty scar from those lucky savages all those years ago, but that was a minor inconvenience that she’d long since adapted to), alive, breathing, and at least, in terms of body, healthy. But her psyche was still a delicate thing.

It had to be him. He had to be real. Whatever forces that governed this strange realm had the power to resurrect her to a mostly-intact physical state, whilst also simultaneously denying her the proper armor she’d earned, leaving her with a piss-poor replica instead. Hundreds, if not thousands, of others, both from realms beyond and native, resided here, and everything at least seemed like a paradise. Whether or not there was a sinister hidden motive was another matter entirely, and one Livia wasn’t sure about whatsoever, but it wasn’t as if she had the means to effectively find out on her own at the moment anyways.

If the mysterious governing forces on the island were capable of all of that with little effort, then it should be well within the realm of reason for them to be able to pull her Lord here as well, shouldn’t it? But what had happened to his armor? What had she missed while she had been... well, dead? Clearly, it was something most impactful on him, if his visible flinching at her use of his proper title was anything to go by. 

Did he personally feel he was no longer that man? The fearsome Black Wolf that was ruthless to his enemies but compassionate and understanding to his allies? The man who had raised her when she’d lost everything out of kindness? No. She could not accept that last one. Maybe, she could learn to accept the former, but never... never could she accept the latter.

“...If you do not believe yourself to be the Black Wolf anymore, then... then that is your decision. But even if you have made that choice, it does not change the fact you showed me kindness and mercy when I needed it most. Even if you insist you are not my Lord, you are still my father.” 

She strode over to him, and pulled him into a hug. He was one of the few she would readily hug (in fact, if she was to be truthful, he was probably the only one she would openly and readily hug), and he seemed to need that right now. At least, as far as Livia was concerned.

“Our Legion has fallen, but we still stand, live, and breathe. Please... please, at least let us be a family... father.” She pleaded, whispering as she held him close. 

@vcnbcelscr​

[wolfswhitehound]

Event Drabble #1: Hound’s Grace

Livia was no stranger to unrelenting, bitter cold. She was no stranger to the freezing cold, bone-chilling, snow that would cover everything in the area in fulms upon fulms of disgusting, cold, wet white powder. As a child, she was naive at actually enjoyed throwing herself into the snow, but as an adult, there wasn’t much she enjoyed about the cold... or maybe it was just years of bitterness gained as a soldier who had fought in countless wars. Either way, Livia let out an annoyed growl upon feeling the air chill. She let out an exasperated sigh upon seeing the snow begin to fall.

Lovely. Even in some otherworldly, supposed paradise, she couldn’t escape the bitter cold. Thankfully, this crass, pathetic excuse for a replica of her armor she’d been given at least seemed to perfectly emulate its insulation capabilities. She wouldn’t freeze to death, at the least. 

She refused to acknowledge the screeching, savage children as they threw balls of snow at each other, built pointless, hideous sculptures out of that same snow, and were just overall getting on her nerves. (No, she wasn’t bitter about the fact she never truly got to enjoy such activities, how dare you imply that!) But Lord Gaius had told her she needed to be nicer... so she decided her idea of being nicer was just another grumble and to leave.

She continued to walk along, leveling glares at any playing child she saw, as if they could see her face. They didn’t even seem to acknowledge her, and she was fine with that...

Until she saw a familiar sight. A massive, frozen-over body of water (she wasn’t sure exactly what type it was, nor did she care at the moment), with an area fenced off, and a small little booth nearby. She knew exactly what that fenced-off area was...

An area for ice skating. One of the few things that could make her happy no matter what.... though she’d never admit to liking something so... free-spirited. She saw that the area was empty...

She checked once, twice, thrice... And let herself smile. 

She strode with confidence over to the area, and found her way into what she could only assume was a changing room, with freely-available equipment...

Livia cringed at the sight of some of the available outfits. Thankfully, not all of them looked like they belonged on some filthy savage, and she chose a simplistic, dark blue one-piece for herself, ensuring that her trademark armor was hidden away. She then proceeded to check once again, twice again, thrice again... the coast was clear. 

She then took to the ice, and began to dance on the frozen surface. Though it had been some years, the motions were coming back to her very quickly. Gliding with skill and finesse, jumping and spinning, landing with ease... it was all quite familiar to the Garlean. In this moment, she was not a Tribunus, not a soldier, not someone whose hands were thoroughly sullied with blood... she just... was.

She just hoped no one would catch her like this.

[duoduonociem]

@wolfswhitehound​ liked for a starter!

Making gingerbread houses, or indeed, anything that required molding or shaping skills was almost beyond her- she had learned that when trying to make a gift for her friend. But from what she had heard, these gingerbread houses were made for you, and you didn’t have to shape the treat yourself. This innovative technology opened up a road for many designs, though she would need to not look at some of the more… obscene, gingerbread houses some were making. You just couldn’t give people free reign over something without running into one or two instances of them abusing it. 

But here she was, watching the machine through the window start to bake her masterpiece, which looked something like a cross between a big, 3-dimensional puffball and some sort of sparrow. Well, actually, if you looked at her screen, it was rather lopsided… And seemed to be being made to those specifications.

“A-ahhhh, no….” Her small wail of despair was almost made silent by the whirring of machines. “Th-this isn’t cute at all…” She had already spent Dust on the whole operation, but her lack of modeling skills blocked her once again. This… This wasn’t fun.

No, no no no. Maybe this wasn’t exactly cute to her, but perhaps she still accomplished her goal? This couldn’t all be a wash, could it? “Excuse me!” Dear stranger, please excuse her for calling out to you. “D-does this look.. Cute?” 

[wolfswhitehound]

Livia was a woman of fine tastes and great pride... though, she did have a bit of a weakness for sweets. She couldn’t help herself-sweets always brought back joyous memories of her childhood with her Lord Gaius. It was one of the few things that made her truly happy and could actually make her think of things besides her great losses and constant battles.

So, when, during a walk, Livia smelled the familiar smell of freshly-baked indulgences, she couldn’t help but stop and turn. A bakery, of course, but... one that used interesting technology to make... strange structures out of what she could only assume was some sort of cake. 

They did look rather appetizing... 

She then heard a soft voice whimpering. She didn’t care to listen at first. The mewlings of some insignificant brat were beneath her-

Well, that was, until she was directly addressed. 

She turned her head, and raised an eyebrow at the brat... though that wasn’t obvious through the helmet. She crossed her arms.

“I am a highly-skilled martial artist who has fought in countless battles. Nowhere in there did I have any time to focus on something as petty and useless as cuteness.” She answered. 

“I’m not even sure what this was supposed to be... but if it’s made of the same cake as the other... things, then I suppose it could still have some redeeming valuable as a sweet little indulgence. So long as it’s enjoyable as something to eat, the thing wasn’t a complete failure.” 

That was the closest Livia was likely to ever get to a compliment to anyone who wasn’t her Lord Gaius. At least, as she was right now.

@duoduonociem

[wolfswhitehound]

of course it only takes a second for livia to turn from a mild nuisance to infuriating as alisaie clenches her jaw. comparing herself to him was a pain that never seemed to cease, and… it’s childish, but she’d rather be the only person calling that twerp irritating. the treats in tow are truly the sole barrier between her sword and livia’s mask. mentioning the hero quells alisaie’s anger for at least a brief moment. what would they do?

well, they certainly wouldn’t start a fight in such a public place over something so petty and pathetic as empty insults. other people might get caught up and hurt. the former commander likely has no interest in the well-being of the other patrons. she silently steps out of the way when prompted, begrudglingly allowing herself to follow livia to the relatively open spot. of course, not after taking a deep breath. she’s just trying to get under your skin. but god, she’d love to punch the helmet off of her stupid face.

the retort is only slightly delayed, as alisaie only mentions it when she sits down. “ at least i’m young enough to still enjoy such things with little repercussion. ” her eating is a bit sloppy, not so much to make a mess or talk with her mouth full. the young woman was just so hungry, refusing to speak or really look up until at least one muffin was quickly finished.

the questions livia proposed prior to reminding alisaie what a nuisance such people could be were at least worth investigating, despite being well aware she just wasn’t good at this sort of thing. she’ll do what all she can, relating it to her own experiences with norvrandt. “ our souls might have been pulled here, but our bodies still remain in eorzea. ”

she keeps it as brief as she can, skipping over unnecessary details such as how time functions differently and some species likely have different names. it would make sense how the dead still hold dominion here, but that doesn’t change the question of “ this world doesn’t look to be in any danger, so i’m not sure why we’re here. ” livia’s proposal doesn’t seem too far fetched, though, “ i’d certainly believe someone out there is playing some sick joke if they’re forcing me to cross paths with you. ”

Oh, how amusing it was to wind up her enemies. Winding them up generally led to them being reckless, and being reckless left them wide open to attack. When it worked, it was a rather excellent tactic. And Livia knew that this little brat was precisely the type to fall for it...

Or so she thought. 

Was it because she mentioned that irksome Warrior of LIght that calmed the brat down? Damn it all, she’d sabotaged it! ...Although, to be fair, she knew she wasn’t in much position to take on the child... and looking at the wooden sword at her side, Alisaie was likely not in much position to take her on either. 

Lovely. 

It didn’t matter to Livia, in the end. She did rather enjoy sweets and coffee, and thus had no desire to ravage this shop just because whatever cruel powers governed this strange realm decided it would be rather amusing to force her to cross paths with a savage that had indirectly been a thorn in her side and, by stripping her of her prized armor (and Alisaie, her proper weapon and likely most of her magic), force them to be civil to one another. Disgusting, but it wasn’t as if she had the power of a bloody eikon or something of that nature to change things.

Livia’s eyebrow began to twitch slightly-was the brat calling her old?! Yes, yes she was, but Livia knew all too well as to why-for the exact same reason she’d insulted the Elezen to begin with. She forced herself to calm down.

“How creative, Leveileur. I’ll have you know that my Lord Gaius is in his fifties and can fight better than most men that are half his age. Trying to insult me using something as childish as my age will get you nowhere fast. At least try to be creative with your insults, if you’re going to try to insult me at all.” She scoffed, before eating one of the pastries she’d picked for herself as gracefully as she could possibly manage. 

What a savage, she thought, eating like that! Is she really the granddaughter of such a renowned scholar? It seemed so... so very savage. Honestly, Livia wasn’t surprised, and finished consuming the pastry she’d chosen to sate her appetite. At least that was good, as was the coffee she used to wash it down. 

The girl’s suggestions made Livia hum in thought a bit. 

“And yet, we both still need to eat, and at least I know I experienced proper pain upon being brought here against my will. Since when can mere spirits feel hunger and pain? Also, you are clearly quite coherent and sane, and if my third eye has not been compromised, your aether is still relatively together, as far as I can tell.” She countered. Granted, she was no master of the arcane-she had no reason to be, as innate magic was beyond her capabilities as a pure-blooded Garlean-but the idea of them being mere spirits just seemed to be a bit far-fetched in the Garlean’s eyes. 

She then laughed bitterly. 

“On that, we can agree. I should have properly died and stayed dead, and you... well, you should have continued doing whatever it is you do when you’re not being a wretched thorn in the Empire’s side. But the powers beyond have seen it fit to resurrect me and pull me here. They have also seen it fit to pull you here from whatever you were doing. And if that wasn’t enough, they saw it fit to strip us of what was ours by right, and then force us to meet, knowing that we would be forced to be civil with one another, given our weakened conditions. Disgusting, isn’t it? I can think of no other justification than those powers’ personal amusement. And the thought of being forced into such a position is revolting in and of itself!” She ranted, voice laced with intense bitterness and self-loathing. 

@adelphoied 

[sterrenlied]

🎶 | @WOLFSWHITEHOUND // STARTER CALL

✧*:･ﾟ| ❝MAGNIFICENT!❞ Ah, music, if anything besides the stars could charm the old man, such is the prism that melodies reside within. He joins the cheers of fellow audience members, hands clapping along in his PRAISE. The orchestra stands, bows after their final performance, and he is FIRST to announce his joy. ❝Truly magnificent!❞

HIS own melody dragged away, held at bay, kept locked up. Heart a heavy weight in his belly. Fingers constantly moving along to a score only HE COULD HEAR —- but now? He’s washed away in the songs of another, and to him, there is no greater joy. ❝What an amazing, MOVING performance. I am touched …❞

[wolfswhitehound]

It was of some reassurance that there was some degree of something at least vaguely familiar to Livia in this bizarre place. Garlemald had a lesser-known reputation for the fine arts, especially in terms of music. Her Lord Gaius had brought her to see many an opera and musical play during her younger years, so when she learned that there were evidently such things here, she couldn’t resist at least investigating it. 

And she was very glad that she did. 

Apparently, the mere appearance of her in her full armor was enough to allow her to enter for no charge (a fact which made the Garlean snicker a bit), although she made sure to sit in a seat such as to not be noticed during the performance by the crowd. She wanted to be able to enjoy the music without someone pointing out the white armor-clad woman, thank you very much. 

And enjoy it she did. While not every song was something she recognized, they were all well-performed, and quite good nonetheless. At one moment, a single tear nearly escaped from her good eye, for she was reminded of the first orchestral performance Gaius had ever taken her to as a child, but she held it back. She would not be caught crying in public for a multitude of reasons, her Garlean pride but one of many. 

After the final song, finishing with a beautiful, powerful B-flat minor chord played out by the strings, was played, it didn’t take long for the mass majority of the crowd to stand up and give a passionate standing ovation...

Lead by a somewhat armor-clad man that seemed to not be of the island-not originally, anyways. The Garlean woman raised an eyebrow, and chuckled softly. 

Music is a universal thing, Livia, she remembers Gaius telling her, many years ago, no matter where you go, there is bound to be some form of music. It is a universal language, with many subtle dialects. You would do well to be able to understand all of them. 

And if the man’s reaction was anything to go by, universal extended to even beyond her home star. How interesting...

She sighed as she saw the crowd slowly beginning to leave. It would no doubt be several minutes before she could effectively leave, and somewhere along the line, she lost track of the armored man who had started the standing ovation. Without even thinking, as she walked slowly and calmly began to try to find her way to the exit, she began to softly hum an old, familiar tune...

@sterrenlied

[wolfswhitehound]

(Copying the original ask to help prevent any confusion!)

from the moonlight || accepting

(🧳) My muse is getting ready for work but your muse stops mine.

food. food, food, food, that’s a vital part of existence and there has to be some here. alisaie doesn’t take too long to follow the scent of fresh pastries. it’s not proper sustenance, but it will at least hold her until she finds an actual restaurant. she promptly orders as many pastries as she can barely afford, pondering over whether or not she can get one more.

coffee for livia.

…who? the name sounds familiar, but alisaie scarcely believes it until she hears the voice expressing quick thanks.

“ … sas junius? ”

she cocks her head, trying so hard to wrack her brain for why that name was so important. all she really recalls is that it’s garlean, but she decides to just skip ahead to the obvious question.

“ what are you doing here? ”

Something familiar was more than welcome in Livia’s humble opinion. And even if they were called different things, the scent of freshly-baked pastries was unmistakable. And a slight indulgence Livia allowed herself-she would not eat too much, but surely one or two couldn’t hurt? Especially not with how active she was forcing herself to be in this strange new realm.

...Oh, right, her previous accomplishments held no weight here. In other words, she was given no priority... although, to be fair, some things couldn’t be rushed. 

These imbeciles had best hope their coffee and sweets are worth the wait... She thought, brooding a bit. 

But before she can let herself sink into too much misery, her name is called. Ah, the coffee is ready, as are the few baked goods she decided to order herself. She strides up to the counter, and smiles. It at least smells good.

“...Thank you.” She forces herself to say, trying to be as polite as possible. She then takes the coffee and food, and prepares to turn and leave-

She blinks. That voice... where has she heard it before? It was one of that irksome Archon’s grandchildren, correct? What was her name again? 

She looked down, and folds her arms. 

“The fact that you know my full name without me introducing myself implies you at least have an idea who I am. And you do look vaguely familiar... one of the twin grandchildren of Archon Leveileur, if my memory serves? What was your name again... Alisaie? Or am I mistaking you for your twin brother? Both of you were equally irritating in your own ways...” She trailed, placing her head in her hand as she thought out loud. She shrugged.

“But what does it matter? As far as you and most of your fellow Eorzeans-” The Garlean seethed the word, wanting so very badly to call her the savage she felt the Elezen was, but knowing she was likely in no position to properly take her on- “-are concerned, I should be dead, thanks to your precious Warrior of Light? And yet, here we are.” She mused, bitterness in her tone. 

“...You wouldn’t happen to have any sort of idea as to where exactly here is, do you? Or how you were brought here? Whatever forces governing this realm are certainly powerful beings, as they can resurrect the dead, but they also seem to be rather fickle. What is their purpose, I wonder? Is there one at all, other than their own personal amusement?” She asked after a few moments. 

“Um, I hate to interrupt you two... but the line’s backing up...” The cashier trailed. Livia looked over, and saw that, indeed, a small line had formed. Again, she shrugged.

“I suppose we should take this to one of the empty tables... that one over there should suffice.” She pointed towards an empty table, and began to walk over towards it. She briefly stopped, and turned her head back just a bit. 

“Oh, and do mind just how many of these sweets you attempt to consume in one sitting. Such gluttony is rather unsightly, and bad for your health on many a level.” She added, smirking in her helmet. Ah, there was a bit of an insult. She felt much better now. She resumed her walk, and sat down at the table. As much as she didn’t like doing it in public, she removed her helmet, and placed it beside her. Platinum blonde hair was then revealed, as well as emerald green eyes... though the right one had an ever-so-subtle sheen to it in the light, and there was plenty of scarring to be had around it. 

She then took a generous sip of the coffee, and hummed softly in delight. Ah, yes, now that was a taste she remembered-bitter yet satisfying, and the mild stimulative effect was most welcome. 

Now, she awaited to see if the brat would deign to join her. 

@adelphoied​

[wolfswhitehound]

Livia knew nothing of this strange place she had been forcefully brought to mere moments after what should have been her final breath, and while she doubted she could learn all the details as quickly as she would like in the method she would like, she could still gather information. She would just have to do it herself, and do it in the simplest and most basic of methods. 

And with that in mind, clad in the pathetic replica of the armor that had been forced upon her (something was better than nothing, she decided, and besides, it wasn’t as if she’d lost proper use of her body itself-she could still take care of herself, if she needed to), she set out to the streets to explore. The (former) Tribunus, of course, was on high alert, fully ready to beat down any threat (literally) that came her way. 

But nothing was coming. And that was... unnerving to her. It was quiet. Peaceful. Too quiet. Too peaceful. And she recognized no one so far-

The prideful Garlean’s breath caught in her throat. 

She knew that short, dark hair. She knew that dark skin. She knew those eyes. She knew that third eye. Could it really be...?

But where was his armor? Where was his favored weapon? What had happened after the fall of the Castrum? Did he know? He must know-such was his nature! 

“My Lord Gaius?” She finally managed, actual eye glistening beneath her helmet, voice slightly trembling. “Is... Is that you?” 

She could only hope that it was indeed him... and that, together, they could make sense of... whatever this place was. Together, they most certainly can... at least, in her opinion.

@vcnbcelscr

[wolfswhitehound]

STARTER CALL

(Livia just got her ass dumped into Isola, and she’s very lost and confused. Like this post for a starter from her-please help this poor woman! Uncapped for now!)

[wolfswhitehound]

Hound’s Arrival

She groaned as she began to stir. Her head throbbed, and felt as if solid lead had been tied around it. She blinked several times, and finally, the heavy fog began to clear. A few more precious seconds, and it finally did indeed clear. She took a deep, shaky breath, as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. She looked down at her hands.

Wait, wasn’t she supposed to be dead? Yes, she explicitly remembered the brutal assault on Castrum Meridianum conducted by those savages of the Eorzean Alliance. And, very clearly, did she remember standing valiantly against the small group of adventurers that decided to attack her, but even with the White Devil, she...

She failed. 

She had failed. 

She had failed. 

She began to curl in on herself, and break down. She had failed on every level! She’d lost the captives, she’d failed to stop the savages from continuing onwards... she’d failed her Lord Gaius! She had failed-

“As much as I would love to let you sit there and have your existential crisis for all eternity, the island awaits you, Lady Livia.” 

Livia blinked, and rocketed up, taking her favored stance. A strange figure was in some sort of transport, looking right at her. He chuckled.

“At ease, Lady Livia. I mean you no harm.” 

She narrowed her gaze at him, and refused to relax.

“And what reason do I have to believe you? How do I know that this isn’t some sort of trap?” She demanded.

“If the stars wanted you dead, they wouldn’t have brought you here. And besides, what do you have to lose at this point? As far as everyone who remains in your home world is concerned, you are dead. Not to mention that I do vaguely remember something about a man named Gaius...” 

Livia’s breath caught in her throat. Gaius... it couldn’t be... was it... her Lord Gaius?! He was alive?! He was here?! But how could she face him-

“Come now, let me take you to the home that the stars have assigned you. Perhaps being here will do more good for you than you might think, Lady Livia.” 

The man was right, as much as it pained her to admit it. Oh, she would never do so out loud. Internally was already painful enough for the prideful Garlean woman. All that aside, she reluctantly got in the back seat, and allowed herself to be driven to where she’d evidently been assigned a place of residence. 

...Well, she supposed it could be worse. At least it was standing. And actually, in fairly good order. Beggars couldn’t be choosers, and she still had no idea of anything. Where was this place? Why had she been brought here? Who were these “stars” the mystery driver kept on mentioning? She had no answers, and it infuriated her to no end. 

Heading inside, she quickly discerned that the chambers must be on the second level, and she, above all else, was exhausted. She forced herself upstairs, and found four bedrooms, one of which clearly showed signs of an occupant. Great, so she was going to be forced to share. Just delightful. She could only hope that her room-mate wasn’t a filthy savage. Or a pervert. Or both. 

She picked an unused bedroom, walked in, closed the door, and made double-sure that it was locked. Once she was sure it was, she made sure all windows were closed and curtained off, and then, she carefully got out of her armor... and only then did she realize it was not her original armor, but a weakened version. She hissed. These stars had likely stripped her of her original armor (thus denying her many of her skills), and forced this pathetic excuse for a replica on her instead. 

She would get her armor back, if it killed her. She was supposed to be a dead woman anyways, wasn’t she? A bitter chuckle escaped her lips as she finished changing, and crawled underneath the sheets. The (disgraced) Tribunus curled in on herself, and cried herself to sleep.