"Have…have your spiders grown BIGGER?" 😱

Eternal Return

FFXIVwrite prompt #6: Ring | 4777 words A formation of various pieces of material orbiting around a planet or young star. | to resound, reverberate, echo. | A solid object in the shape of a circle. (⚠WARNING⚠ Canon Character Death)

Time usually goes in a line. Past to present to future. Yorick supposed his was still a line. He was a child, he was an adult, he was broken into a million pieces and had to trudge on as a Warrior of Light. He’d traveled to the past but what did that mean for him exactly? He returned to his own time, he grew older. One day he’d pass on as all things do. Nothing had changed. A line was a line.

Yorick was sitting on over four million gil. The idea of buying himself a home had been sitting at the back of his mind. He was hedging between that or just continuing his usual spending habits which included accumulating a half dozen baubles he’d inevitably forget somewhere as he had nowhere to keep them. Another reason to pick an abode but he had sentimental reasons for being resilient to the idea.

At any rate, he certainly wouldn’t be moving to Twelveswood where he’d have a higher chance of having an unpleasant reunion with his family he’d ghosted nearly a decade ago.

Finding his room at the Carline Canopy was a practiced ritual he was barely cognizant of. He’d walked those halls while bruised, while ill, while sorrowful, while so far in his own thoughts he couldn’t find his way out if he wanted to. Thousands of stumbling steps tread upon a beaten path.

The walls and floors and pretty much everything in the room really was all just the same wood. It was ornate enough that the paneling wasn’t too overwhelming  but Yorick still fancied it could use more color to break it up. The green rugs and its faded embellishments weren’t exactly cutting it. The water feature at the left wall with its flower bushes was a cute touch. It was also largely useless. Ul’dah’s had a bookshelf and both it and Limsa Lominsa’s had ample storage. Gridania, by contrast, was best suited for people who traveled light.

It also typically didn’t have any chairs. Yorick had to have one moved to his room. When asked what he was using it for he stated it was for contemplation. He’d meant it to be sarcastic but he’d been taken at face value for that one. That was Gridanians for you.

He’d taken his chair and dragged it across the room and sat it next to the bed. The purpose Yorick had had it brought in had been rendered inert three years ago. He figured it had just been pushed aside in the time hence. When he was satisfied with its placement he let himself drop unto the bed and stared at the seat that sat across from him; his head busy.

The first time Yorick had ever met one of their adversarial “Paragons” was when he and his Warrior of Light cohorts met him in the The Thousand Maws of Toto-Rak. He’d said a lot of what Yorick considered to be nothing. Calling them all fascinating three of four times in a row before declaring their story would have to come to an end. It all rather felt like he was competing for a particularly dramatic role at the Mih Khetto’s Amphitheatre complete with a bow. Except for the whole dropping a very real and particularly agitated banemite on their heads. That was a lot of pincers and running out of pools of poison. Or it could have been acid. It’d been a good six years and he’d fought a lot of different arthropods in that time.

That was the end of that encounter and the Warrior’s of Light had left the old prison cells of Toto-Rak with their rescued elder. That wasn’t good enough for Yorick. He’d heard them talk about the Paragons and the Ascians or whatever other name they had. All this talk about bringers of chaos, light versus dark, good versus evil. It was all too superficial and summoned the smell of smoke to his nose. Bringing him back to the time meteors had fallen from the sky and his bow had snapped. When his friends had pointed their fingers at him and he’d never been right since. So he made his excuses and stayed in that chamber.

Yorick waited until he was sure his associates were out of earshot before shouting “,I know you’re still here, asshole.”

After all, one did not throw a monster at someone in that particular manner if they weren’t going to linger around and see if his enemy made it out or not. Yorick figured this didn’t have much to do with killing them. Maybe toying with but more likely testing. For what purpose Yorick didn’t know. Which is why he was taking a shot in the dark.

A guy lingering for no reason was bound to keep one interested enough to stay right?

“How easily you resort to insults when I’ve only treated you with the respect  worthy of my adversary.” The voice sounded echo-ie like it was coming from nowhere or everywhere. Yorick turned his head looking for any place he could have been hiding but found nothing. Infuriating because he’d sounded insufferably smug and Yorick wanted to at least look at his face to scowl back at him for it.

“I think it’s fair I get one free in exchange for the mites,” Yorick said, gesturing to the room and the remaining angry green liquid.

“I suppose you didn’t care for our game much,” Lahabrea’s voice came from behind him with the sound of that weird portal he’d used to leave.

Yorick turned his head casually, trying to cover up the fact he’d jumped just a little. “It’s antithetical for a thaumaturge to move from their place in a fight.”

“And yet you survived and relatively unscathed.” Lahabrea stated, pacing around him while noticeably observing him from behind his mask.

“We have three healers. Kind of hard not to be.” Yorick remarked in exchange. Returning his game with a quirked eyebrow and a curious look.

Lahabrea paused in front of him with an inscrutable look before asking flatly “,why did you call on me?”

“I wanna know more about you.” Yorick said.

“Always paying attention to the wrong thing,” Lahabrea stated in a way like he knew him. Then said with a familiar bitterness “,why don’t you ask your Scions. I’m sure they’ll tell you all you need to know.”

“Oh I’ve heard all about their ‘Paragons’,” Yorick said his face all disgruntlement. He’d been associated with Minfilia since the later days of the Path of the Twelve. He’d heard the growing worries and threats to the realm right before the organization collapsed with the Calamity and reformed as the Scions in smaller number. “I want to hear it from you.”

“You couldn’t possibly conceive the truth you’re looking for. It would serve me better to cut your inquiries short than answer them.” Lahabrea leaned over him. Yorick never quite hit five fulms in height so it wasn’t exactly hard to seem intimidating. He just didn’t have it in him to have a normal reaction about the difference. When the talons of Lahabrea’s gloves had come threateningly toward his throat, Yorick simply lifted his head and pulled his leather collar away to grant them greater access.

He shrugged it all off stating dryly “,got me there. Pretty stupid and need things written out for me more times than not. Nevertheless, I’m going to keep asking.”

The Ascian pulled back up to his full height and looked at him with some sort of smug emotion. Appraisal? Curiosity? He thought it was something positive at least. His voice was still cloying. “Are you sure you’ll be able to find your way in the dark after walking in the light?”

Yorick barked a singular indignant “hah” that didn’t quite count as a laugh. His face was all offense as he pointed a claw of his gauntlet at him. “I’m a Keeper of the Moon, sir! We’re meant to live there.”

The robed man brought his mask to sit against the claw with a “thunk” and crooned a mocking “,Maybe next time…”

That had begun their clandestine meetings. Yorick would spot Lahabrea standing somewhere only he’d see him and excuse himself from whatever situation he was stuck in. Not hard considering it was his wont to escape any situation he didn’t want to be in which was every situation that concerned other people. Even if he wasn’t adverse to them, the idea of becoming close to anyone left a bad taste in his mouth. Other times he’d appear in private. It didn’t seem like walls or doors mattered to the robe. Not a few times he’d wake up in the middle of the night of whatever inn he was staying at to find him sitting in a chair across from him.

Just like this.

Looking back, Yorick couldn’t really figure out why Lahabrea had humored him so. Knowing what he knew, he was dedicated to his one true god. Whether that be Zodiark or his late wife Athena from the corrupting force of her black auracite. Maybe they were one in the same in his mind. He had been a strange man. Never giving him any real answers. Or giving him all the answers and none of the context. He’d been right in a sense, he was blinded by his understanding of things so he couldn’t see the forest for the trees. It wouldn’t have changed anything.

He supposed he should feel guilty for going behind his associate’s backs. He didn’t. They only ever talked and they talked largely about nothing. Mostly they argued. Half a dozen moral debates that seemed horribly stilted. And then one of them might get angry and storm off. Yorick was easily wound but he also had a talent for being annoying. Part of which was his insistence on calling Lahabrea by any name but that. Laha was most common but others like Laheeha, Breeha, and if he was feeling particularly cheeky: Lahabreehaha. Other times they were quiet. Unable to find anything to fill the silence or a proper reason to be around one another and yet… they lingered. He hadn’t really meant to keep it a secret and had resolved to tell them. The problem was that Yorick was usually in a fog and was only ever coherent in these scattered moments and on the battlefield. Otherwise he’d simply forget and get lost in his own mind and if he thought about doing something hard enough he’d simply fool himself into thinking he had.

Lahabrea had killed him.

He remembered that clear as day. Yorick was not meant for the light and fire. He was meant for dark shadows of deep forests and the crushing abyss of the sea but ever since the meteors had fallen he’d been aflame. He’d turned from Thaumaturgy to the arts of Black Mages and though those arts were things he had long coveted, he was soon outpaced by his peers. They’d all fought valiantly but Lahabrea was on another level. All the fire and dark magic he possessed was unlike anything Yorick was familiar with. Just when Yorick thought they’d scrape by the skin of their teeth, he’d killed them.

He had the faintest idea that he should feel betrayed but he didn’t. That was their job and he would have done the same. This was preferable even, though he did mourn the loss of his associates who were worth more than him. It was more the power of Hydaelyn that made him rueful. That surged in him and his fallen comrades to bring them back. Bid him fight on in this never ending struggle. Oh, but the burn did not leave his mind.

“Cover me,” Yorick had called to his fellows.

The darker skinned dragoon with white hair yelled out a “what?” picking the most inopportune moment to turn around and almost got blasted for it.

“I said,” Yorick yelled louder, planting his feet and beginning to cast his spell. “,Cover. Me.”

Recalling the way those flames had swirled as it had consumed him. It was darkness and it was flame and it was something more. He couldn’t replicate that but he could just replicate some of the same principles. The fireball that was forming over his head grew to a fierce size in glorious reds and golds. And then it shrunk before exploding once more in a lovely shade of blue. Lahabrea’s head jerked from the assault of a dragoon and their various many healers just in time to see that blue ball hurtling at him, Yorick’s cackling resounding as it did.

What happened after that, the blade of light, Hydaelyn’s voice, the very many souls of their companions and allies pooling to banish Lahabrea from the body of the friend he’d possessed. That had to be told to Yorick after the fact as he’d immediately passed out after tossing his flame. He’d become a little glass canon after that. The fire was fierce but it took a moment and Yorick was not only defenseless while casting but more or less useless before and after while he recouped his mana. He was put on the sidelines more as he refined his technique and that suited him fine.

He’d also been told that Lahabrea hadn’t died. That they’d simply destroyed his corporeal body and he’d likely return. It was taking him time though and it was making him antsy. Really he didn’t know what irritated him more. The idea that Lahabrea hadn’t bothered to see him or that they might have hurt him a great deal more than they’d thought.

Yorick was a very foolish man prone to very foolish emotions. He’d done a damned good job of convincing himself otherwise when Lahabrea showed up again. Largely because that’s when things had fallen apart and they’d all had to flee to Coerthas. He was stretched thin at that point and Lahabrea had seemed like a blessing from Menphina. Like a warm darkness to curl up when one had been blinded by snow.

Yorick had all but run to him and felt stupid for it but he was all but spent and didn’t have enough left in him at that point to care. Nor to stop himself from grabbing unto those stupid robes just to feel something real. That was mildly more embarrassing after the fact and to keep his face hidden he’d plopped his forehead against Lahabrea’s chest.

“What are you doing?” Lahabrea asked, just as befuddled over the whole matter. He’d placed his hands on Yorick’s shoulder as if to move him but he never did.

“I don’t know,” Yorick groaned, his stubby ears and tail flicked with his embarrassment. When the shove he’d been waiting for didn’t come he added “I’m glad you're back.”

“That’s absurd.” The other mad said accusingly.

“I know.”

“You’re a fool.”

“I know.”

They were more quiet the second run. Yorick was fighting his own stupid feelings and trying to be oh so normal about all of it. There was nothing normal about any of this. Lahabrea was more irritated but less weird. He’d been boastful and loose with Yorick before but now he’d held himself with reservation. Yorick wasn’t sure about the change. He’d just settled on the idea that this was Lahabrea injured and just didn’t bring it up. The Yorick that was sitting across from an empty chair realized now that being kicked out of his body had likely freed Lahabrea from the influence of the Heart of Sabik and its corrupting influence to some extent. More in control of himself he should have cut things off with Yorick but they continued their meetings though they spoke with more care.

Still, Lahabrea would tell him nothing. Though it was not about the grandiosity of their plan but that it simply wasn’t Yorick’s place to know. Hydaelyn and her servants would need to fall for the reemergence of his dark god and it wouldn’t do him any good. It was almost patronizing but there was a note of respect there that kept Yorick from truly getting mad. He’d remind him that he didn’t know enough about the “Mothercrystal” to be so loyal and Lahabrea would consider him but ultimately deem it too risky. Yorick burned too much with her light.

They circled around the same topics though the events that took place in Ishgard gave them more than a few new conversation points for their moral discussions. Though ultimately Yorick’s opinions largely circled back around to “rich bastards are just like that”. He’d asked if Lahabrea or his friends were responsible for the mess in Ul’dah that had made them flee. Lahabrea said not every bad thing that had happened to him was a plot of the Ascians and they all did a good enough job ripping themselves apart with them. Yorick had snorted at that with amusement and had to agree. It hadn’t felt like him. It just felt like Ul’dah.

The last night in Yorick’s room had felt different. Lahabrea was alluding to half a dozen things he wouldn’t elaborate on that made his fur stand on end. Heavy tension like before the storm. Like the way the Twelveswood felt when the primal Odin was stalking its paths. He’d needed to reach out to him like before. Keep himself tethered. He grabbed one of his robes sleeves between his thumb and pointer finger. Flesh on cloth, It was too cold in Ishgard to keep wearing his clawed gauntlets.

Lahabrea had stared at his hands and said with a cruel note to his voice “,this won’t save you.”

Yorick frowned a half dozen other words coming to his mouth but settled on a remorseful “,I can’t save you either.”

That hadn’t been the point.

Lahabrea died. Killed in front of him. He’d burned the Archibishop and every single god damned knight that followed him for it. Damn his god king and his church and Halone and all of Ishgard while he was it. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. It should have been by his hands. Then at least he’d have guilt instead of just an empty room. An empty chair.

Yorick’s grief hid in the grief his colleagues held for another. None of them batted an eyelash but then Yorick wasn’t one who could let go of his losses. He carried them with him like medals that would one day drag him under. Let them, he’d thought. And let all who knew him watch as he let it happen. It would be his revenge against the powers that be for letting him live and Lahabrea for dying.

A lot had happened in the three years since Lahabrea died. He’d learned about other worlds, ancient civilizations and the horrors of their downfall. The missing pieces of the Ascian puzzle fell into place. They, too, were beings ruled by their grief. Yorick had come out of all of it a little weirder. Which wasn’t saying much but some of the weight he’d been carrying had been unintentionally washed out of him. He picked up a bow again though his aim was noticeably shittier than ever. He learned how to sing. Though in a way that perhaps unnerved his friends whom he still could not call friends. He’d chained himself to a voidsent. He was the best he’d ever been and the absolute worst. Which was exactly how he liked things.

Then the call for help rang from Pandaemonium. A sort of hellish research lab in Elpis; the past. The head of whom happened to be Lahabrea. Though it was not him he found there but a badly disguised Elidibus and another ancient named Erichthonios. Who also just happened to be Lahabrea’s son. Which had risen a couple of questions including a half thought out “Lahabrea fucks?” which had received Yorick a swift knock to the back of his head. Not enough to hurt but enough to remind him they were in particular company. Needless to say, Erich didn’t like him much to begin with. That was a pretty typical reaction to Yorick though it was hard to ignore his charms. Like a grungy stray that refused to be pet but wouldn’t leave one’s yard. It was endearing as it was off putting.

Lahabrea was not how Yorick thought he’d be. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d expected and realized he’d probably be surprised by anything. After all, Yorick had gotten used to the mask that had shrouded Lahabrea’s possessed vessels that it was his face as far as he was concerned. Might as well have been considering he’d learned “Lahabrea” wasn’t even a name but a title but that was neither here nor there. It was weird seeing him bare faced with it hanging off his chest. Dark skin, gray (or really an off white pink) hair save a few spots of red. His face was noticeably lined with age which surprised Yorick who had never thought of him as being particularly old. Nevertheless he’d had that same extremely weird attitude.

“Lahahee,” He had said with such confidence despite the fact several confused looks were passed his way.

“It’s Lahabrea,” Erich had gently supplied.

“I know Labreeha, Erich,” Yorick stated indignantly, pointing at himself as he did so. “Erich” drew his lips into a line and the expression that passed over his face was of a man who was trying to decide if he should be concerned or laugh.

Then things got complicated as another Lahabrea showed up and the first one was revealed as an imposter named Hephaistos who still looked an awful lot alike Lahabrea just younger and to the left though that last part might have been because he had a noticeable lack of eyebrows. This had left Yorick all a little confused and put out. (Where did they [the eyebrows] go? Flashing in his head a half dozen times. That question was going to haunt him.) But the second real Lahabrea wasn’t dissimilar to how Yorick had known him after he and his cohorts had liberated him from his body. Which meant he had the affect of a very grumpy accountant.

He was also still very attractive. Yorick cursed out Menphina a half dozen times in his head and Erichthonios’ estimations of him took another steep dive as he was doing a shitty job of not looking interested. This had also shocked and horrified the other Warriors of Light whom were very interested in why his reaction had been more fond than adversarial. This is when Yorick had realized he never got around to telling them all about his little talks with their supposed foe.

That was going to get real annoying when it eventually reached Thancred’s ears.

At the moment they had bigger problems. Like a bunch of researchers (Or zookeepers? He’d lost the thread a while ago) were being grafted to their wards and some weird plot by Hephaistos that involved Lahabrea’s late wife. Soon to be undead wife? He wasn’t sure on that one either. He had been paying attention for once. He just still had no idea what was going on. It was pissing him off. Lahabrea had called him interesting again though. That was something. Technically all of the “aether thin” denizens of the future were understandably interesting to him but that wasn’t really relevant. Acting normal had been an ability he’d given up on a year or so ago.

Lahabrea did get the brunt of that as he’d made several attempts to interact which were derailed or rebuffed. They didn’t have the same history as before, Yorick noted. Yorick was also less of himself but something else. Another him entirely and this whole ordeal was making him increasingly weird about it all. The same dynamic of before could hardly be diminished but Yorick still liked to prod him, especially now that he could clearly see Lahabrea’s brows wrinkle with something between concern and annoyance. It was cute.

A family altercation had somehow turned into Erichthonius denouncing his father and getting spirited off elsewhere into the facility. A trap laid by Hephaistos counting on Lahabrea’s lack of consideration for his son’s feelings. There was a notable disregard for Erichthonios’ grief that Themis had to point out. Lahabrea made some excuse about wanting to save his son’s feelings and Yorick had more or less piped in that being a shitty father wasn’t the way to soothe hurts. Rage had spilled over Lahabrea’s face but smoothed over with his resignation to his faults.

It was weird seeing this side to him. Weird to learn more about his dead… whatever he had been to him. He was a shitty father, sure. Still he was trying. That was made clear when they’d proceeded further into the facility and unearthed the truth of Athena’s sins against her own son. Ones that had driven Lahabrea to kill her and rip his own soul in twain; Hephaistos and Lahabrea. Not everybody did well in the roles they were given or made the right choices but it was better to be able to lament ones mistakes than just choose not to make them. Yorick was mayhaps more than a little biased on the matter.

Regardless, the rescued Ericthonios and Lahabrea were able to hold an open dialogue and it wasn’t perfect but there was understanding. As they made to leave, Yorick pat Lahabrea’s back and gave him an “Attaboy” for the effort. A comment received with a derisive snort which Yorick returned with a cheeky grin.

There was more the story. Something in his present with Pandaemonium resurfacing in the aetherial sea where all dead souls are supposed to be. Another Lahabrea. Another fight. Most importantly he’d been directed back to Elpis to see the culmination of Lahabrea’s efforts in Pandaemonium’s cleanup. While he was there, Yorick was impressed upon by the fact this could be the very last time he’d ever see him alive and a familiar pain rose in his heart. Lahabrea received them with some suspicion but nevertheless filled them in on his efforts and made a rather showing confrontation with Hegemone over her allegiance with Athena.

How this Lahabrea had come to be the man he was familiar with was a question that plagued him. Mayhaps Hades and Themis were forced to flee not with Lahabrea but Hephaistos’ stone? Or it was Erichthonios, driven by the loss of his father and drawing a line between them. Yeah that one had felt particularly foolish but weirder things had happened. He’d learned to think big. The truth of it had been so simple. Lahabrea took Hephaistos back into himself to regain his strength and then, looking at Yorick and speaking almost as if he knew:

“You and I stand on peaks separated by vast chasms. Our perspectives shall never align. And never shall one give way to the other, for such is our nature. With that in mind...let us consider any debts between us to be void. Before you leave here, mark well these words… My resolve shall weather loss unfathomable, and yield before no obstacle. Walk your path with the same conviction.”

Yorick was first on offense but it was a knee jerk reaction. He’d no need to be hurt or bothered by any of it. He laughed. Not one of his cruel cackling peels or the bitter falsities that he was prone to but a clear and bright laugh. He’d thought to say a dozen things but settled only to say “,Understood.”

And he did.

Yorick plopped over in his bed and turned away from the chair. Painful in its emptiness but more painful to forget. He could never figure out why Lahabrea had reached out to him nor stayed so many nights simply to say nothing at all. He’d seen him. Known him. Lahabrea had stepped from his shadows and reached to Yorick through the tempering of the Heart of Sabik when Yorick had called him. And together they had walked this same path many times and would many more.

Yorick, abed, smiled to remember.

Lahabrea had died three years ago. He had talked to him just today. He would go on in a time Yorick had not been born with and would wonder as Yorick wondered of him. And they would meet at toto-rak and it would begin again.

Yorick would go on. He had a beginning and he hoped an end. A single line from a to b. But for them in that loop they were never ending. A circle of their own choices to chase one another bound them in eternal return.

V. Beasts of the Black Shroud (Barbarous)

(Immedately) pre-WoL Etien.

It wasn’t something Etien was eager to tell people about. But that was mostly because it was embarrassing, and people took stories showing her as occasionally a fool in a lot of weird ways. She didn’t like the position it put her in.

But she was glad, put simply, that relations with the tribes of Eorzea and beyond were becoming more equal and equitable. It lined up better with her understanding of those populations.

She had been careful as a child and a young woman, having to take precautions when she went out into the Black Shroud by herself or in small hunting parties, because there were Ixal bands around. She worried about them about as much as Banemites or Diremites—they did scare her, but she usually didn’t come across any, so she tried not to worry. Anytime she saw the Ixal, she gave them a wide berth and slowed down so she sounded more like some piece of wildlife skittering through the underbrush and not like a young Miqo’te wandering through fallen leaves, and it was fine.

So it both chafed and made sense, in the early days of her tenure as a member of the Scions and as the Warrior of Light, to hear people talking about “the barbarous ways of the Beast Tribes.”

Were they barbarous? Wasn’t the way Gridania treated the Duskwights barbarous? Weren’t the gladiatorial battles barbarous? Wasn’t piracy barbarous? Seemed to her it wasn’t a beast tribe thing.

But if there were in fact attacks on carts and caravans in Thanalan, and Sahagin advances, and people further desecrating the ruins of Gelmorra (if she remembered the name correctly), then yes. It did need to be stopped.

It just all needed to stop.

It had taken her longer than she really liked to admit to make it to Fallgourd Float and to the pathway through the Shroud (the trade path on which she’d stowed away on the wagon) from there.

She had been keyed up by the fight with T’ahn, shaken by it all and crying as she walked, so she wasn’t really moving efficiently though the wood. It was her best that she was doing, being careful not to attract anything to her. So she didn’t sob or sniffle, just rubbing her eyes as she stepped on the leaves, not kicking through them, lest she agitate them.

She’d had ticks before, and didn’t want to again. And there was no one to pluck them from her hairline or tail’s edge now.

So when night had started to fall, Etien knew better than to try to struggle onward. She had good vision at night, but the crepuscular creatures had even better night vision.

She had thought ahead a little bit, so she did have in her bag the materials for a lean-to. Tired enough, she set it up, like she had on hunting trips—the cloth covered her as she say back against a tree, nothing in the grass.

She didn’t make a fire, so she wouldn’t eat tonight. Just as well. She closed her tear-swollen eyes.

And when the sun rose the next morning, there was a basket beside her. It looked hastily-woven, not exactly fine craft work, but safe against any bugs or ground squirrels or leaves falling in it. She opened the tightly-applied lid to find a pot of honey and a portion of travel-stable bread that some kindly individual must have left her.

And there was a note underneath those two items, she saw. “Sleeping One looked wan. These ones have left Sleeping One something to eat.”

Well, there was breakfast.

She was delighted later on to see Sylphs near the water, whose expressions seemed to brighten when they caught sight of her.

She worried they would fly away, now that she’d spotted them, so she lifted a hand. “I mean no harm.”

“Sleeping One looks much better now.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. “The honey was delicious.”

Etien was a good gatherer and a fair hunter. She would have survived one night and two days in the Black Shroud on her way from Alder Springs to Fallgourd Float, and from there to New Gridania, perfectly well. But it had stuck deep in her, that the “beast tribes” weren’t so beastly, when the Ixal had left her alone all night, and some Sylphs had been kind enough to feed her.

She was glad that now, everyone else was seeing that.

#16 - Jerk

feat Rihnn

pnce again short n sweet n weitten on mobile

“Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-”

Xe looks over xir shoulder at the companion assigned to xem by the Adventurer’s guild, expecting to see the archer surrounded by their quarry. Instead, Rihnn sees him running for his life from-

Fuck-

Jerking xir blade free from the banemite corpse, Rihnn launches forward even as xir companion stumbles. Xe wraps a hand around his shoulder and pulls him back to his feet, the two of them sprinting towards Fallgourd Float.

“Thanks,” the archer gasps out as they stumble to safety.

Rihnn, xir hand around xir companions shoulder the only thing keeping xem upright, shakes xir head. “Don’t worry about it,” xe says, glancing over xir shoulder, a little light headed. “How do you miss mentioning the Dullahan in the guild request?”

It isn’t funny.

Xir companion laughs anyway, falling to his knees as he chokes on it and taking Rihnn down with him and-

And Rihnn, lightheaded and shaking, finds laughter bubbling out of xir throat as well.

Blitzball =3

haimatinon replied to your post “I’m still kind of just laughing over the fact I...”

They took ya fucken ruin 2! Can't have shit as a scholar.

It’s fine-ish, I’ll get it back at level 38 :’) I asked for this, anyway. “I DON’T WANT TO BE DPS,” I said.

Well, I sure ain’t dps with my two buttons. Had my wish granted and then some.

FFXIV Write 2021

Prompt #16: Crane

Mentions of Ovipositioning, really weird foreplay, Monsterfucking, Ravana (boyfriend).

“Could you maybe make yourself a little shorter? I like to look up at my mates, but twenty fulms is a bit too much.” Hero wasn’t sure how the story of his time incubating eggs for a Banemite managed to make it back to the Vath. He was really only sure about two things right now. The first was that someone he’d told the story to after a few too many drinks had passed it along and he’d have to find them and make sure it stopped. The second? Ravana, lord of the hive himself, needed Hero to repeat the performance for his needs- and it would be best for everyone involved if he did.

Ravana wasn’t built for tempering, he was summoned by a hive mind that cried out to him when they needed something. A dragon was on their land? Ravana. Someone needed to brave the bigger beasts to bring food back to the hive? Ravana. They were low on members due to Gnath becoming Vath? Hero had stopped a kidnapping of a member of the non-mind in exchange for helping them gain new members the old-fashioned way.

Which involved bedding Ravana.

Lucky for Hero, Ravana seemed to be more than eager to lay with the Miqo’te. Currently he was trying to show off his body, newly molted with a carapace that gleamed in the low light. “You know you don’t have to impress me, right? I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t willing.”

“You have bested me, many times before now. Few mates would dare bear the eggs of a mate too weak to protect them while in their care. I must prove my worth to you. If not by this display of prowess, then by giving you a nest and meal fit for a fleshling queen!” The preening display ended only long enough for Ravana to shrink closer to Hero’s size. Still taller than most Elezen, maybe even as tall as Emperor Varis, but not tall enough to pick Hero up single handed anymore. “Tell me, strong mate, charming mate, what will please you in a nest? What feast must I bring you?”

Hero stopped to consider, “Something soft? I like my beds soft and covered in pillows and blankets so- yeah. Someplace soft and comfortable for me to rest.”

“Ah, that can be done easily. We have furs, leathers, and the silk of our own weavers that can be turned into a suitable mating bed.” Ravana drew closer, summoning one of his blades only to kneel with it before Hero. “What about your food, my mate?”

“Um, maybe ask the traders of Tailfeather? They would have food suitable for a Miqo’te.” He thought about it, “But roasted meats and just ripened fruits would be a start.” It was cute? Was that the right word? Even though Ravana was a powerful god of war, seeing him fretting over taking care of a mate was really sweet.

“Once I have a suitable nest ready, then will you accept my eggs?”

Hero nodded, actually looking forward to it now. “Yes. So I will need to return in half a moon’s time?” 

“Yes, my eggs will be prepared for incubation then, and I will have your nest ready.” He stood in a swift motion and towered over Hero again, reaching out to stroke his cheek. “Tis a noble thing you do for my tribe, my fleshling mate. My powerful warrior. My eggs will be strengthened by your body, and I will make sure your body is able to take my eggs.”

Right, this is why he had to do it. Anyone else might risk accidental tempering. “I look forward to it. See you then.”

“Fare thee well, mine strong mate.”

Well, it wouldn’t be the worst way to spend a moon at least.

Dear Diary 17

The Plume was hopping the other night! I was really surprised but pleased! Also, we have a new bartender. He’s uh...interesting? He’s funny and audacious and I’m not sure if Veladrys is gonna murder him or not but we’ll see!

I got matched up with Zhao again. She tried something different this time around with fire and I got signed pretty bad. I ultimately won though! It was a fun rematch, a lot more fun than our first fight. I wonder if it’s just me or if she’s a lot...I wouldn’t say nicer, but less hostile towards me than before. Did I mention this before? I feel like I have. Oh well! I don’t mind it, it’s almost like a twisted sort of rivalry? Or maybe not. Zhao is weird. I don’t really want to try and understand her, but in a weird sort of way I like her.

That’s just between you and me, diary. If anyone gets a hold of this and tells her I will hunt you down.

Side note: If I ever fight against Khan, fight dirty as fuck. He told Zhao to go for my tail. Arsehole.

Conor’s fight was vicious as always! I mean, you should never underestimate lalafell anyway but he’s always something else, whether he wins or loses! A part of me wants to fight him, another is a little wary of fighting that whirlwind of destruction! He went against Ceci this time around and it was pretty close if I remember right! Damn good opening match.

I was serving and met a really kind roegadyn named Echoing Thunder who ordered one of e v e r y t h i n g on the menu. Including the desserts. Kaito really had his work cut out for him. Guy was really hungry, I guess! Bringing that all out had been challenging!

It had been someone’s nameday too and I guess Veladrys knew the guy? Because after they brought down the cake he popped out of it with a mighty roar and I...

Eorzeans are weird. Gods they’re so weird.

Anyroad, the cake got all over Erith’tan’s new dress (I’m guessing he got that dress since he couldn’t get the Coconero Cup dress?) and he was distraught. Thanks to Tyme and a few others they managed to get him cleaned up and consoled but it took a bit.

After that nameday boy and Trystan went at it. It was a good fight! It’s a little hard to serve and pay attention to everything going on but it was nice to see everyone so lively.

Trystan and I also spoke for a bit about the Gold Saucer. I’d never been there before so he offered to take me. I felt a bit bad about it, but I suggested making it a group setting on purpose. It felt too much like a date setting for me to feel comfortable. That wasn’t the only reason though: with Starlight coming up, having everyone together at a place like that would be a lot of fun. It’d be an easy way for me to give everyone their gifts.

Also, why were there so many Diremites that night? Was the entire clan there? What in all the hells? Were they having a clan meeting after or something?

I guess Veladrys got enough cake off his fur to get ready for his match against Jasper. It was...bloody. Jasper took an axe to the chest and lost a lot of blood. I think the blood god quota was met for the night with Jasper alone. Well, at least until that one creepy Banemite guy got involved and literally sucked the blood back into Jasper.

Eorzeans are weird.

I...couldn’t really look or talk to Jasper much after that. I mean I did but I didn’t want to. It’s hard to explain even in this diary how and what I felt. Tyme and the others picked up on my brooding but it’s hard to explain something when you haven’t nailed down the specifics of it all. If there was a visual of it, it’d be a  series of thick, squiggly tangled lines. I don’t really know how to face Jasper right now.

I did get to meet the owner of the Murder Puppy (I don’t think that’s his name but that’s what I’m calling him, because he’s a cute murder puppy) Lvcia and she was very polite and kind to me. I’d like to become friends with her. We didn’t even know each other well but she was willing to lend an ear to a perfect stranger. I know I didn’t seem very receptive but everyone’s kindness was appreciated. It’s nice when people show they care.

A returning customer~! 🤩

So I had a fun romp through a certain infamous toxic dungeon. Healer and dps were new to it, tank was a bit bold but not awful. We died like four times in the first fucking room alone, did fine on the first boss, second boss was “A learning experience”, and final boss was actually the most smooth. We did wipe a couple times in various rooms though.... damn banemites.

But we did it, we were all positive, I did my best to help with general mechanics, and we had fun memes and talks! Shoutout to these three WoLs!

ENJOY YOUR STAY! REMEMBER! 

YOU’RE HERE UNTIL LEVEL 50!

prompt 21: crunch

[ ffxivwrite2019 : cold snap ]  [ previous prompts ]

Lunya Lanya was not built for cold weather, much less snow. 

She grumbled as Majj dislodged her from yet another snowbank, the dragoon chuckling as he lifted her as easily as he would a sack of popotoes. 

“You didn’t haf’ta take on leves ‘ere.” He grinned toothily at her, the points of his fangs glinting under Coerthas’ frosty sunlight. “Thought you didn’t like apples anyhow.”

“I like them!” Lunya exclaimed, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “I just don’t like snow!”

Majj shrugged as he hooked her basket onto Ube’s saddle and pulled up a new one for her from Bentu’s bag, slipping his chocobo one of their apples as a reward for his patience. 

The vintners of Ul’dah had recently got into a mirror apple kick and demand was high enough for the Brugaire Consortium to reach out for help gathering them. It was easy coin - which was the only reason Lunya was out here in Coerthas’ perpetual winter, trudging behind her friend and thinking about shoving her hatchet into his head every time he laughed at her misery.

On good days, Majj was a great friend, his liveliness and charisma lightening up the party’s mood. On bad days, he was a menace, and Lunya was really feeling that today.

Just as she started thinking that Majj couldn’t possibly do anything worse than mock her by wearing only a thin coat out in the cold, he walked over a ledge and plummeted into Witchdrop.

Lunya yelped and set down her basket - because Majj had done stupider things in the months since they started adventuring together and lived and she would be damned before letting a paycheck slip away from her for anything - before she darted over to the edge of the cliff. At first glance, she thought the Miqo’te had splattered across the ravine floor, but thankfully it was just the apples unceremoniously scattered around for the banemites to eat. Instead, the Keeper dangled halfway down the cliff face, the back of his coat caught on a jagged spike sticking out of the wall while he looked like a scolded kitten.  

The Lalafell sighed, more out of exasperation than relief. “Majj, are you okay?” 

“S’alrigh’,” came the muffled response, and Lunya looked around for a way down, her hand to her linkpearl to page the other two members of their party. He probably smacked his head on the way down, and if not then Nyneve could have a good laugh at his expense. “D...dunworry... ‘bout me. I’ll jus', ah, eh. Juuuuuuuump—“

“You will do no such thing!” Lunya shouted, Nyneve mumbling an ‘ow!’ in her ear as their paladin answered the call. “Nyneve, Majj fell in Witchdrop!” She gathered Ube and Bentu’s reins in hand - the last thing she needed was for one of them to jump in after her idiot companion.

“Is he dead?” Nyneve asked curiously. Lunya heard Theodaux splutter in worry somewhere near her and the screeching of chairs pushing back on brick floors.

Lunya glanced back into the ravine. Majj seemed to have regained his senses - though just how much was questionable, as he started testing how strong the spike he was attached to was, looking an awful lot like a worm on a fishhook. “Unfortunately, not yet.”

“No, no, no, watch,” Majj called up to her. “Cats always land on their feet. I can do it.”

He couldn’t see her face, but Lunya frowned anyway. “H’lios said that Miqo’te aren’t cats and Y’shtola called Thancred a bad word for suggesting it.”

“I’ve been on this crystal three years longer than Lios!” Majj scoffed, crossing his arms as the wind gently swayed him side to side. It was a ridiculous sight. “That’s three thousand two hundred 'nd eighty-five more fish I’ve eaten than 'e has! I know what I’m talkin’ about!”

He didn’t say anything about Y’shtola though, which was wise. Privately, Lunya thought that the ones that grew up around other Miqo’te would probably know best, but what did she know?

“Listen, kid—” Majj started.

“I’m nineteen.”

“—I said it ‘ffectionately. I’m the Azure Dragoon—”

“You got your soul stone just last week.”

“—and I’m going to— hang on, Lu, step back.”

With a shake of her head, Lunya did as he asked, crossing her arms with a huff.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”

A torrent of wind exploded from Witchdrop, sending snow and apples flying skyward. Majj burst out of the ravine with it, twirling through the air with all the grace of a wind elemental. Lunya was almost impressed until she realized he had conjured a gust so sharp it managed to cut all the apples in the air in half.

“Majj!” she wailed. “The levemete asked for whole apples!” Their chocobos, in contrast, quarked in delight as they snatched up apple slices in their beaks. As Majj landed next to Lunya, coat in tatters and covered entirely in snow but still laughing gleefully, footsteps crunched behind them in the snow.

“Oh, he’s fine,” Nyneve said disappointedly. “Not even bleedin’ or anything. Let’s go back, Theo, it’s freezing out here.”

“Is it?” their white mage wondered as they wandered back down the path to Camp Dragonhead. “It’s rather balmy for Coerthas.” 

Majj at least had the decency to scratch the back of his neck in shame as Lunya levelled a glare at him, the sound of the apples hitting the snow as discordant as the sound of coins not meeting her hands. “Uh, I didn’t mean to do that part. You’ll... split the pay for yours with me, ‘ight?”

“Shut up before I push you back into the ravine.”

Prompt # 28: Attune

    Attune – v) accustom or acclimatize

Curse these bitter winds... Hiun could hardly think of any reason why his sister would have traveled this way. The residents of Fallgourd Float had warned him about the biting cold, and he was grateful that he had listened. Though he had originally been loath to swap his traditional garb for the heaviness of plate armor, the combination of layers of leathers and metal insulated him from more of the freezing winds and snow than the thin cloth would have. Even with the insulation, his teeth still chattered, snow collecting on his horns and his shoulders as he trudged along the road. Coerthas was turning out to be a barren place filled with inhospitable people, and once more he was coming up with little more than rumor for Chie's whereabouts. Had the Lancer's guild been wrong? He had done the best he could to assist them enough to ask them for their aid, and they had bid him to seek out Alberic, but he had come away with no more substance than he had arrived. Couple that with the inability to seek further information in Ishgard's heart, Foundation, and it was looking as bleak as his surroundings. As Hiun trudged through the snow on his way back to Fallgourd Float, he turned his head down against  the winds and blinked to keep the flurries from his eyes. How could something so fluffy be so damned cold? It was obvious that his body was not attuned to this. He longed to return to the warmth of his homeland, though he knew he could not. Exiled. Such was the life of those who left Sui No Sato. Why had Chie left their family in the first place? She was frail and should not have gone away on her own. Grunting as another gust of wind felt like it blew through him, he clenched his teeth and clutched his arms to his chest. He would have to find work soon. He did not have money to ride with a porter, and though he might have been able to use a chocobo, the smell of the horse-birds made his nose hairs curl. It wouldn't be long now, and he would be somewhere warm. Well, warmer, he thought. The lancer heard the sound of a cart making its way up behind him, and shifted off the road to make way as it passed. The driver made a soft noise to the chocobo as they were nearing, bringing the cart to a stop beside him. “You alright, stranger? You need a ride?” Hiun shook his head, vaguely catching sight of snow falling from his horns as he did so. Chie would have found that funny. Elise would have too. “I have no money to speak of.” “Where you headed?” “Only as far as Fallgourd Float.” “Hop in. I can take you that far. Don't worry about the coin, boy. I'm headed that way myself and then on to Gridania from there. You look tough; you keep my shipment and myself safe and we'll call it even.” Hiun looked out across the road for a moment, contemplating the offer before nodding and gripping the side of the cart to lift himself up next to the driver. Settling in, he flexed his toes within his boots, pulling a face at the feeling of his joints screaming in protest. He would get back to Fallgourd Float, thaw himself out, then decide what to do next. “What's your name, boy?” The driver asked as he urged the chocobo forward once more. The ride back was spotted with conversation, mostly pleasantries, when Hiun was not contending with the occasional packs of silver wolves and the occasional banemite. He didn't mind, however. It was better than walking. (( @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast, @trc-xiv ))

Prompt 1: Voracious

Please note that I am not actively participating in the FFXIV Writing Prompts for 2019. For one I am VERY late to the start and two, I don’t do so well when it comes to these things obviously. I do however want to write stories to these prompts with a character in particular. And that is Toshinaku here.

Please also be mindful of your safety as some of these prompts may contain material and content not suitable for younger audiences.

FFXIV Write Week One Prompt - Voracious FFXIV Oneshot (Potentially, may be referenced in further Prompts) Rating: MATURE! This Story contains graphic violence and character death. Creatures/Animals are dead, characters are dead and a person dies a rather intense death. There is also a graphic transformation at the end with skin/flesh melting away. Please keep safe and do not read further if you are under the age of 18. Warning: This story contains content that details the ways in which large constrictors kill their prey. As well as a graphic depiction of a lamia (Naga) transforming back to a humanoid shape. Warnings for Snake like bodies, snake habits and graphic violence/gore. Pairings: None Summary: A lone wood wailer travels deeper into the northwestern part of the North Shroud to investigate reports that wildlife has gone ‘missing’ what he discovers is a truly disturbing sight and is the last thing he sees. Word Count: 1,666 (This amuses me... I am the worst lol)

The moon was high in the sky that night, and far closer than it usually was which allowed for its silver light to cast rays down through the thick canopy of the trees in the forest. The night was eerily quiet... no night predators making sounds, no scuffling animals rushing through the bushes and no real signs of life anywhere. Something was off, something was wrong and something just did not feel right at all. Slowly the Wood Wailer was making his way through the forest... he'd gone deeper into the north western parts of North Shroud due to reports of how the forests had gone quiet and it was as though all life had vanished from the deeper territories. The fact that everything was so quiet seemed to make the reports more true than they had originally thought. Animals migrated in and out of the forest all the time, they would travel to different parts of the forest as well when food was more scarce. But this... this was unnatural.

Cautiously the Elezen proceeded further and deeper into the unknown, trying to be as quiet as he could. The further he got the more he felt fear rising up into his chest... a hazy fog started to form as he continued onward. The man slowly reached back to grab the wooden bow from its resting place, an arrow soon following and being nocked into place so that the weapon was armed. This fog wasn't normal at all... it was almost suffocating and he felt as though his lungs were slowly being denied precious air that was needed for him to continue the investigation.

His eyes were looking and scanning the area around, this... fog was giving off an almost greenish toxic hue, it also had portions where it was a red that was tinted with purple and black. It was certainly not unknown that the Shroud had its share of Voidsent, more so than other parts of Eorzea it seemed and there had been many reports about findings within the forests. People also disappearing or dying to the beasts of the void. The Wood Wailers certainly did their best to eradicate these threats but there was only so much they could do and there were far more pressing matters that required their attention. A sudden sound under his foot caught the Elezen's attention and he stopped his progress to look down and inspect just what the source of the noise was. It honestly sounded as though he'd stepped on a branch but once he waved away the thick fog the man let out a gasp and his hands let go of his bow letting it drop to the forest floor as they jerked up to cover his mouth. What he saw was no branch at all... what he saw was an almost petrified corpse of a Ziz... the thing looking as though it had all of the life just drained from it. And it wasn't the only thing that was this way. Slowly the man looked up and the fog was seemingly dispersing leaving the area visible and open now with it gone. So many bodies... animals and creatures native to the forest all laying dead on the ground and looking similar to the Ziz that the Wailer had stepped on. Worse... all these poor creatures looked as though they died in fear, even if their expressions were minimal he could see how wide the eyes were. With his hand still over his mouth the elezen carefully knelt down next to the Ziz, looking at the spot where his foot had landed. It was almost like... paper... the skin had practically crumbled apart and withered away, bones so brittle that they turned to dust. What manner of anything could do this? Even the voidsent of the forest were not capable of just sucking the life out of creatures were they? The man glanced up after a moment to look at the rest of the corpses that were around... Opo-opo... Ziz... Banemites and... another sharp gasp came from the Wailer as he was up to his feet and scrambling over towards what he'd seen next. Ixal's... and... these were from the Ehcatl Nine, worse... Rummaging through his pouch the man slowly pulled out a parchment that contained a hand drawn portrait, he was looking over the corpse that was under the Ixal's body and what he saw made him sick to his stomach. There was a report about a missing person sent out not too long ago... a worrying wife had brought up and mentioned to them that her husband had gone out for supplies in the North Shroud but never returned. She had waited weeks before reporting it finally, holding out a hope that he might have gotten lost or that something more important came up... her husband worked with the Ixal of the Ehcatl Nine so she had expected that as a potential for him being gone for so long. With his distraction though the man was about to find out just what had caused this... disturbing scene before him. A slight movement caught his attention out of the corner of his eye... a shining light seeming to sway and wave in the light of the moon. It was almost... hypnotic really and the Elezen found himself standing up so that he could further his investigation. He made his way over to grab his bow, one eye keenly focused on the strange 'light' that was gliding along in the distance. The way it moved reminded him of a serpent with how it would slowly coil its body around to move through its surroundings. Of course... there was a sudden jolt and the 'light' was gone in an instant. That's when panic started to creep in, bow being quickly drawn up with another arrow nocked into place as the Elezen's eyes darted around looking for where that... thing had one. A step back was followed by another and then another... slowly and carefully until his back was pressed up against a tree. Breaths were coming fast and barely allowing for air to get into his lungs... that fog was gone but the suffocating effects it had felt as though it had never truly left. A gentle sound came to the man's ears and his attention turned upwards which seemed to be where it had come from. Above was that 'light' again but this time it's form was visible... scales that glistened with the silver rays of the moon in a pastel array of iridescent colors. The scales themselves looking as though they were made out of precious gems... they were mesmerizing with how they glittered and shined. There was little time to respond as well... what was in the trees slowly moving... a long tail dropping in front of his face and quickly wrapping around the Elezen's throat and coiling, constricting... Within but a moment the form of what at first appeared to be a large serpent dropped out of the tree with a heavy thud and those long coils were wrapping around the Wailers form in a tightly constrictive manner. There was no escaping them... there was no getting away and no freedom to be found now that the man was in their chilling embrace. A gentle clawed finger pressed itself to the Elezen's lips once those serpent like scales broke and turned to human flesh and skin... skin that was glowing with various holy sigils and seals that were fighting desperately to contain the creature that had its prey in those muscled coils. The creature obviously being in immense pain just trying to hold onto the form it was taking... "Hussssh little one... it will be over ssssoon." an almost melodic and soothing voice flowed out from lips that bore dangerous fangs and teeth... but those were not going to be what ended the poor man's life, nor were the constrictive coils that embraced his form. Toshinaku could feel the man's bones popping and breaking within those coils... he had been so ravenous which had been why he had gone to the extremes this night. Voracious and needing as much Aether as he could to try and break away the seals the bound him to that accursed form that one of his clan had bound him to. Those eyes narrowed ever so slightly before he grappled the Wailer's face with one hand... completely covering it as those coils of his squeezed, Aether flowing freely from the poor Elezen's mouth, eyes... nose... and slowly wrapping it's way around the creatures form, absorbing it's way into his body through the glowing sigils. And as that life was being sucked away the Wailers body was taking on that petrified state that all the creatures surrounding the area had taken on... skeletal and with a paper like skin. "Sssssuch an innocent sssssoul you had... delicioussssss and beautiful..." the man let out with a low purr as he chuckled, finally letting the skeletal corpse go once he sucked out the last of the fools aether. But... the happiness did not last long and Toshinaku gasped out sharply... all but collapsing on top of the wailers skeletal form and rasping for a breath of air... "Burrrrnssssss... it isssss burrrrrning again..." he hissed out deeply as his eyes looked back towards the end of his tail... watching as flesh and scales melted away... bones practically turning to ash as his entire body was melting away into nothing. Another rasp came out of the demon as he tried desperately to fight the transformation back... but sadly he was still not strong enough to do so. Once it began there was no stopping it... "Currrrssssed you are my little clan mate..." so much pain he was in... and as the transformation slowly reached the point where his feet were beginning to form he let out a rasped cry of anger and agony... "I will find you... I will make you releasssssse me..."

What do Dione and Rev get from the Krampus?

Dione... oh boy.

Dione can have a stuffed yak. But also. She was naughty at times. Meaning she is also going to have the taste of banemite flesh randomly come into her mouth while eating at random times for the next week.

Just a soft reminder to listen to Dad.

Rev is indispituably nice. A potted plant appears in his room that sprouts big beautiful specimens for his botanical self to study.

Prompt #3: Lost

@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

Content Warnings: None

Rating: T

Ao3 Link

--

“This will be easy, you said.”

“Shut up, Julien.”

“Just a quick job clearing out some caves, you said. No need to wait for Klyn and Khorsa to recover; we can take care of it with five of us.”

“Shut up, Julien—” Galqar paused to impale a banemite on his spear. “Come on, it’s this way.”

Midnight frowned, “Are you sure? I think we’ve been here before.”

Galqar nodded. “We’re good—let’s do this.”

Five Esunas later, a glassy-eyed Galqar vomited in a corner, still suffering from taking a morbol’s breath attack directly to the face. They had backtracked and walked right into a nest of seedlings and goldvines that they’d missed on their first time through the area.

“Sorry,” Galqar muttered when he could breathe again. “Got a bit turned around. We should keep going.”

Qih’sae threw up his hands, tail lashing in irritation. “Do you have any idea where we are? Because wandering around lost in these piss-colored caves with man-eating plants is not my idea of a good time! ‘Dead adventurers—’”

“‘Spend no coin,’” everyone else chorused, except Galqar, who was busy coughing.

“We should go back, and wait for Klyn’s leg to heal up or Khorsa to get over the flu, whoever recovers first,” Julien said, grudgingly tossing another Esuna at Galqar.

Midnight folded her arms. “No way. I am not fighting my way through this place again. Let’s just finish it already.”

Ears flattening, Qih’sae glared up at the rogue. “Do you have any idea which way to go? Because fearless leader over there is clearly lost—”

“Not lost,” the Au Ra growled. “I’m just a little disoriented.” The other four party members just looked at him, until finally his broad, armored shoulders slumped.

“Okay, I’m…not sure where we are, exactly.”

Julien covered his face with one elegant, long-fingered hand. “Right. Executive decision: we’re leaving now.”

There was a rush of air, then heat, and then a pack of morbol seedlings who’d popped up out of nowhere was incinerated by a massive fireball. Four pairs of eyes looked down at the Lalafell mage, who sheathed his staff on his back and drew himself up to his full three fulms.

“Julien, I realize this is not optimal, but you agreed to it, so you’ll just have to adjust,” Zizig told the conjurer. He turned to the Au Ra. “Galqar, I love you like a brother, but you have no sense of direction, so someone else is going to have to take point—I volunteer, if there are no objections.”

Qih’sae and Midnight shook their heads, and Zizig stalked to the front of the party.

“Right,” he said, “Let’s get this nonsense over with.”

Dear Dire/Banemites:

GIVE ME YOUR SINEW

Sincerely,

A very haggard Leatherworker just trying to get to 35