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idanwyn-et-al · 2 years

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(XIV||22-28): Vainglory.

(Continued from here.) (♪)

That two-faced hypocrisy rankled her, though she had to admit it did not surprise her. After all, Anne-Sophie wasn’t the one who nigh-singlehandedly brought down Thordan and his Knights Twelve; the Holy See feared the Warrior of Light (and Darkness, she always amended the title internally) but they did not fear her.

Perhaps that was not entirely true; the entire premise of her trial was based on their fears. As the wagon parked near the Holy Stables and two Temple Knights stepped forward to pull her out into the morning snow, she ducked her head so that they couldn't see the smile that sprung unbidden to her lips.

Neither Warrior of Light and Darkness nor Azure Dragoon that accompanied that esteemed personage, yet still a threat to their Order. She tried to hold on to that small flame of courage and conviction, placing a little cover around that candle so the winds of her guilt and self-doubt could not extinguish it.

---Previously, at the Gyshal’s Greens on the Shroud-Coerthas border:---

Despite Rae-Hann’s sound advice, Anne-Sophie hadn’t bothered to wash her hair black any longer. She’d already been caught twice, and she fully expected it to happen again. Though she had a wanderer’s heart, it seemed she did not have a fugitive’s required expertise. Somewhat ironically, the rest of her journey back to the Gyshal’s Greens was entirely peaceful. The few travellers she and Vendredi encountered on the road seemed more intent on their own business to pay hers any heed, and aside from a polite nod in greeting, they left her and her chocobo alone.

The Mystic Knight turned Vendredi to the right after a particular waymark on the highroad. Though the final stretch of their journey was through the forest itself, the pathway to their destination largely overgrown, Vendredi’s steps were light and merry. He knew what awaited him at the end of this erstwhile hunting trail carved by minor nobles that had once wintered here; a cozy stable, fresh greens from the nearby gardens, and his beloved Madame Kweh, the Comtesse of his heart.

Once Anne-Sophie settled her steed in with all three of his favorite things, she checked the postbox, retrieving the three letters addressed to her. She settled down on her favorite log; one of the only remaining signs that this garden had but recently been an overgrown ruin. She, Trineaux, and Miovont could have cleared it away with all the rest, of course, but she had taken a fancy to it, so it remained, gathering moss and mushrooms that bloomed and faded with the seasons.

Chilly rain spilled forth from the clouds, and Anne-Sophie absentmindedly surrounded the letters with a bubble of wind aether. She opened each envelope in turn, tucking them into a leather pouch on her belt after taking in the words. Once all had been read, she dismissed the bubble and lingered in thought. Gelid droplets fell at arrhythmic intervals from the pine branches above, dotting her cloak and hair with what felt closer in temperature to snow than rain.

The cold steadied her musings; she was still a daughter of Ishgard, after all, even if far from the most favored one. The first letter had been from Trineaux, assuring her that he and his adoptive parents were quite safe for the time being. That was a relief; though the Inquisitors surely knew Trineaux was her squire, it seemed her brief time within his family’s manor had gone unnoticed. He’d kept his missive brief, but there was much between the written lines; yearning to meet up with her again soon, to protect her as she was sworn to protect him. Anne-Sophie hoped she would get a moment to speak with him in person again before her trial.

Her sister Noémie had sent the second letter. This was even more brief, and peppered with the language the two of them had invented as girls. Anne-Sophie knew she would discover more information once she was inside and could hold the letter to flame; her younger sister was fond of adding additional information in specialized ink. Still, she could guess at its contents; that her family stood firm in their support, though they were doing all they could to remain above suspicion themselves these days.

The final missive was from Miovont, wherein he thanked her for her assisting himself and his ship’s crew with a family matter. In truth, she wished she could have spent more time on that endeavor; working with her fellow Knight Errant was always an adventure, and teaming up with Rinh Relanah, a scholar after her own heart, had been a delight. Her presence endangered their crew too, however; the Nixie had even been mentioned on that damnable wanted poster that far too many people had seen.

So many friends and loved ones, both old and new, united under the banner of the Mystic Knight’s vainglorious rite. Rain could not cool the shame that burned hot on her cheeks. Anne-Sophie walked over to the garden patches and tended to them for half a bell; a sort of penance, though she didn’t directly consider it as such. A compulsion born into many Ishgardians of faith, however far they strayed; to punish oneself until guilt is expunged.

Once there were no more outdoor tasks to complete, she entered the cabin, leaving a trail of mud and water behind her as she sought the showers in the basement. After she’d cleaned herself up and consumed a cup of tea, she tied her hair up and mopped up the mess that had followed in her wake. If only all the chaos she’d wrought could be so easily remedied.

(Continued here!)

#FFxivWrite2022 #my writing #Anne-Sophie Bale #XIV Write 22 Anne-Sophie Story #The Trial of Ser Bale #I always wanna listen to WoW starting area music this time of year #and it fit the prompt so yay #Prompt 28 #Vainglory #mentions of #Rae-Hann #Miovont Kotelleloix #Trineaux Cauvidain #Ishgardian Knights Errant #Noémie Bale #Rinh Relanah #oh also featuring Log #Glorious Log #I love it IC and OOC

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idanwyn-et-al · 2 years

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The Free Trader Nixie

Serving as the base of operations for a motley assortment of folk, the Nixie is a highly-unusual galleon. Though much of her interior is lavish, the ship is known to sit lightly upon the waves. Rumor has it that the crystalline core, which completely surrounds the mainmast and is half-grown into the decking itself, is responsible for this uncommon buoyancy; a rumor that the captain and her crew neither confirm nor deny. Though the ship is nominally chartered out of Mealvaan’s Gate, she is a Free Trader, and thus enjoys special dispensation.

The Nixie’s dock house and gardens can be found in the southernmost part of Mist’s fourteenth ward, with ship’s home slip directly across from the dock house. When ashore, the crew often enjoys entertaining friends and prospective clients in the gardens and cafe; truly, a not-pirate paradise!

The former pirate ship is fitted throughout with ceruleum engines and cermet pipes; a more-recent addition to her still-present rune-embroidered sails. All of the Nixie’s systems, whether classic or modern, are tied into the crystalline core. This network allows the ship to endure long-haul voyages at great speeds, making her a sought-after vessel for cargo and passengers alike.

Though the voyages are often faster than the norm, long stretches at sea are common, and the Nixie is outfitted with an entertainment deck featuring the Rogue Wave Stage. Guests will enjoy fine fare, often produced by the culinarian captain herself, as well as coveted musical and theater shows; being a Free Trader, the Nixie has been known to sail to neutral waters to allow more politically-charged performances to take place without legal repercussions. There is also a semi-hidden crew’s lounge on this deck where the crew have many of their less-formal meetings.

The main deck includes what many consider the ship’s second-greatest treasure, after the core itself; Hymlbyrta’s Legacy Library. Named after Idanwyn’s aunt who was the former captain of the Nixie, these books are collected from all over the star, their tales lovingly catalogued. Additionally, the core is at its thickest, here, and those who wish to delve into its mysteries are often asked to take a seat on the so-called Captain’s Chair carved within the luminous stone.

The bridge and chart room sit just beneath the weather deck, and include a number of shuttles to allow the crew to traverse topside as needed. The helm is most often manned by the first mate, while the rest of the crew tend to the modern displays and classic instruments throughout. Navigation is conducted through both mundane and magickal means, the ship’s primary navigator being a Sharlayan astrologian.

There are numerous cabins and staterooms throughout the interior, including a clinic; the engine room; crew quarters; the brig; a film theatre; and more. Indeed, another curious aspect of this definitely-haunted vessel is that its cabins are known to shift places from time to time without warning. Either in spite of or due to the ship’s eccentricities, She serves Her crew well, leading them ever into Uncharted Territory.

The Nixie, home of the Uncharted Territory FC, can be found on Mateus, in Mist, Ward 14, plot 6! The ship’s current IC location is always listed in the welcome message of our guestbook. Please feel free to stop by! We are also recruiting, as well as looking for others who might want to RP with us and our ghost-soaked ship! The carrd needs a few touch-ups; that’s actually what inspired me to take these screenshots, among others, but the information is there. I solemnly swear I will make a proper recruitment post Someday :tm:.

OOC rambling: Though I have posted a few screenshots before, I’m continuing my apparent trend of touching up places I’ve decorated this month. Like everything else I decorate, the Nixie was done entirely by me on PS5, using the mouse to float furnishings when required. Rinh Relanah, our IC navigator, did help smooth the slanted skylights on the bridge into a nice arc, for which I am eternally grateful!

#ffxiv nixie #my housing #my screenshots #uncharted territory mateus #ffxiv rp #ffxiv housing #ffxiv decorating #looking for rp #ffxiv #crystal rp

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idanwyn-et-al · 2 years

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(XIV||22-1): Cross.

Though vessels completed this task daily, their arrivals and departures both serving as background sights for an average coastal dweller, crossing any sea was no glib feat.

A checklist, neverending, always mending when cropped down. Idanwyn’s father had called a ship’s manifest ‘wistyrwaek’ for as long as he lived. In their old Sea Wolf tongue, ‘western battle’; shorthand for the struggle that one must endure to answer the horizon’s call.

There was the cargo to consider during this struggle, to be certain. Fine cheeses and neatly-rolled bolts of velveteen from Ul’dah; check. Wineport wines, a staple, check. A bouquet of polearms from Gridania, rope looped around their centers in the hold, check. Various missives and treaties entrusted to the Captain of the Free Trader Nixie, hidden within the galleon’s core itself; check.

Too, the Captain’s Regulars must be accounted for. Falkgara Khannmagasyn, the First Mate, the southpaw Captain’s Left Hand: preoccupied of late, but ever-present, manning the helm; check. Zakuro Kaifu: the Chief Engineer, corralling her kobolds into pressing the Nixie’s ceruleum engines ever-harder; check. Miovont Kotelleloix, the so-called Cabin Boy that worked well within the allowances that silly title allowed him; check. Rinh Relanah, the tribal Keeper who could read the stars and thus served as the Nixie’s Navigator; check. Malachi Bloodforged, the attache whose connections were inversely proportional to his free time; check.

There were other able crew to consider, of course; friends and loved ones of those who currently served as the Regulars. Worth consideration, too, were those who remained loyal to Idanwyn after her aunt Hymlbyrta suffered a mutiny, half the former crew making off with more than half of the Nixie’s treasures.

Scoundrels to a person, those. Even the Nixie Herself, the spirit that swam within the crystalline core surrounding her namesake’s mainmast, seemed content to let the mutinous former-pirates go. Her vessel was Hers, now, and Her Captain an ally.

Idanwyn Lluan’s-kin, finishing her wistyrwaek, felt for a moment as if the deck beneath her feet was made of swimming stars; points of predatory light within the unfathomable abyss. Nauseated, she rested her left hand on the map table; sweat condensating on her brow before drizzling to the deck below; air filling and leaving her swimmer’s lungs in miniature tempests. On her left arm, beneath her kosode, her largely-drained aetheric tattoo threads itself with the barest hint of wind aether.

One’s sails will be filled even if one’s lungs strain to fill them herself.

(Continued here!)

#FFxivWrite2022 #my writing #idanwyn lluanswys #Prompt 1 Cross #sea wolf #roegadyn #XIV Write 22 Idanwyn Story

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idanwyn-et-al · 2 years

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(XIV||22-10): Channel.

(Continued from here. Additionally, this is the final entry for Idanwyn’s ten-part story!) (♪)

No crew of a ship at sea was ever fully still. Much like the waves and winds themselves, everyone moved in shifts; the traditional cycles of days on shore forged into bells of work and rest that ensured none were overtaxed. All governed by the wistyrwaek; that carefully-arranged manifest. Perfect, clockwork order that even accounted for the odd all hands call in case of emergency. Once the crisis was handled, those who had been awakened would return to sleep, first; the wistyrwaek once again followed to the letter. As if the issues that rose at sea had never occurred; consigned to a note in the Captain’s Log.

This clockwork precision of the able crew meant that Idanwyn passed the alert members of the dawn shift, though she herself moved as if sleepwalking. Soft-soled shoes trudged along the bridge deck; one foot before the next. Her insulated coffee bottle, its contents still piping hot, hung from nerveless fingers. Her eyes bulged wide, blinking only when her body demanded it; following its own manifest that kept her moving. Though all of her crew noticed her demeanor, most refrained from commenting on it; the Captain had been overtaxed of late, they knew, and suggesting that she take an extra shift of rest would be met with polite-yet-firm refusal.

The ship’s Navigator, Rinh Relanah, was less reticent than much of the crew, however. She, too, was part of the dawn shift today, and as she entered the middle deck, her ears pointed towards the Sea Wolf who stood facing the crystalline core. Here, the core was its thickest, and included a carved seat; those who wished to communicate with the Nixie’s spirit directly sat upon the crystal seat and surrendered themselves to Her, swept within Her realm. Idanwyn stood with her feet shoulder-width apart, arms hanging at her sides, the coffee bottle falling to the deck yet again. Rinh stooped to retrieve it, the soft music of her tribal bells and ornaments just audible above the muted roar of the ship’s travel.

“Captain? Is aught amiss?” Not wishing to be rude, Rinh kept her aetheric examination of the Sea Wolf to a quick peek, her eyes flashing silver for a moment, then frowned. Not a big change, and yet...something had shifted in the Captain’s personal aether.

Idanwyn heard only the roar of the ship, and her dead father’s raspings.

“Syntblyss...ach, if only ye’d have listened...”

“Nixie,” Idanwyn murmured, then staggered forward, collapsing at the foot of the carved seat. All at once, the lights flickered, then dimmed; a great shadow rose within the core, resolving itself into a monstrous, finned arm with clawed, webbed fingers that moved through the waters within. The hand lowered, turning its palm upward as it slid forward beneath the insensate Captain. Idanwyn coughed; seawater gurgled from between her lips.

“Nixie!” cried Rinh, her red-furred tail puffing out in alarm. “What are you doing to her? Stop this instant!” Already, Rinh was reaching for her linkpearl, when the Nixie replied in the toneless, mechanical voice of her console.

++Do not worry, Navigator. I will do her no harm. There is trouble coming. She has heard it. I have heard it. Tell the others after she wakes. There is nothing to be done for it now, so let them rest. You will all need rest.++ The voice paused. ++You may stay here if you wish to confirm the truth of my words. But do not interfere.++

The Keeper’s two-toned eyes went wide, then narrowed as she folded her arms, still carrying Idanwyn’s coffee. Her ears flattened as she growled her reply. “Damned ship. As if I’m going anywhere.” Leaning against one of the nearby cargo crates, the Navigator waited as patiently as she was able.

To Rinh’s surprise, only one minute passed before the lights flickered back on. Idanwyn spluttered out another mouthful of seawater, then got to her feet, her left palm covering her face. “Lass...oh, Nixie,” she croaked, then turned around, both surprised and comforted by Rinh’s palm on her right arm.

“Captain...are you all right? What in the hells just happened?!” Rinh looked upon Idanwyn with her aethersight, then stepped back a pace or two. “Six or seven hells,” she muttered, tail swishing in awe.

“Aye, ye see it then, do ye? Dinnae worry yer ainself, me lovely. Dinnae bother stirrin’ th’ crew, either; I’ll tell th’ Regulars once we’re all taegether again.” Idanwyn winked at Rinh, then took back her coffee, unscrewing the bottle’s lid and draining the still-hot life-giving brew. She turned and headed topside once more; her shift wasn’t over, after all.

Within the core, moments prior:

--“You hear it, too, then?”--

Idanwyn kept her eyes squeezed shut, and took a moment to remind herself she wasn’t drowning. Breathe as if on land. Ignore the body’s desire to hold its presumed final breath until lungs burst. She was within the abyssal depths of the sea; every one of her senses told her as much. The great pressure; the icy, bubbling saltwater that cradled her. She breathed, at last. As ever, air filled her lungs. This time was different than any time before, however; the air tasted sweet, perfumed with southern flowers carried on sultry humidity.

The geomancer opened her eyes, and looked around herself with awe. She was on an island; the only water present was the ocean in the near distance, and the fresh, cold water from a spring below. Glowing lilies drifted along the spring-fed pond’s surface, soft petals bumping against her calves from time to time.

“This is new, Nixie,” she observed aloud, her eyes looking beyond the dance of fireflies to the sky; eventually, they found what she sought. Twin golden full moons, some yalms apart. A great, hulking shadow rising from the sea far below, its shape defined by the way it blotted out the stars behind it.

--“Yesss,”-- the Nixie replied, the sibilance catching flickers of light on Her many-rowed fangs. --“I have worked hard to repay your kindnessss, White-Fieldsss. Fewer entanglementssss; I have ssset assside placessss sssuch assss thessse for My crew.”-- Though the Nixie’s eyes had no pupils, Idanwyn could nevertheless feel the shift in their gaze as they regarded her left arm. --“Draw upon it.”--

The Sea Wolf followed the spirit’s scrutiny of her aetheric tattoo, surprised to see threads of shimmering aether moving freely along it once more. “How...” she began, then shook her head. It didn’t matter right now. Idanwyn moved through her kata, the elemental perfection in this isle the Nixie had created for her allowing for easy channeling of the five elements she was able to wield.

They answered her. Moons of their absence made their presence heady, even though she remained weaker than she had been before the landwalking rite. “Oh, Twelve an’ kami both,” Idanwyn sobbed, dropping to one knee in the spring below. “T’ank ye, me beauty. I still dinnae ken how ye did it, but---”

--“...and you do not need to know sssuch thingsss right now, White-Fieldssss,”-- the spirit interrupted. Despite Her demurral, there was a touch of pride in Her tone; a levity to the voice that, in contrast to her topside tone, was the voice of tides crashing within a dark cave, whistling through weathered stone, low and wild and old as prayer. --“He isss reaching tendrilsss towards ussss....”--

“Aye.” Idanwyn stood, brought her aether to center. “We’ll keep an ear on it taegether, will we no’? Ye, the crew, an’ me ainself.”

The Nixie’s answer was one of action rather than words. Her great shadow moved towards Idanwyn’s isle, and all turned to black save for the twin moons in the darkness. A rush of bubbles, and she was returned to the physical realm. She felt more confident within her own flesh than she had in moons; she would need that surety of step to face Lluantoum as he was now.

#FFxivWrite2022 #my writing #Idanwyn Lluanswys #XIV Write 22 Idanwyn Story #Prompt 10 #channel #Couldn't have picked a better prompt to close out Idan's story tbh! Yay!#not me listening to Wriggle on repeat for the entire time I wrote this #Lluantoum the Depth Charge

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idanwyn-et-al · 3 years

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(XIV|21-21: Feckless. Jeveh’li Rivenroot.)

[♪]

Sunlight illuminated the crowded-yet-lush room, motes of dust drifting dreamily. Jeveh’li was procrastinating; his white-collar imprisonment on this strange ship made that quite easy. He had no linkpearl, no daggers, no damned ring that evidently half the star was in pursuit of; just the sounds of the harbor outside, the smell of fresh roses and clean linens inside. Better than the hammocks and sounds of Nora’s curse-born chattering. Better than Erian’s final, gut-wrenching cry for aid that none could answer.

Jeveh’li closed his eyes. “Happy thoughts, Jev,” he muttered to himself. “Good music. Pretty women making that good music. Fireworks over the islands. A bower made of flowers, and a Roegadyn woman waiting for you there.” Unbidden, his thoughts strayed to Idanwyn; he grimaced. “Nope. Different one.” Tragically, no bigger, burlier female Roegadyn arrived to save his imagination; just the thoughts of the runt of a Sea Wolf some ten years his junior, who was evidently the Captain of his current cushy prison now.

He padded over to the baths; again, so much luxury crammed into such a small space. After he’d rinsed off in the shower, he soaked in the neck-deep waters for over half a bell. How had that daughter of Lluantoum managed to get her own ship, anyhow? And with such a...oh, how could he put it...diverse crew?

The Keeper’s thoughts shifted to Seran Lancier, the quartermaster, his fecklessness at the Drowning Wench transmuting into thoughtful words and a keen investigative mind once aboard the Nixie.

Malachi Bloodforged, on the other hand, had kept his temper even after the merry little chase Jev led them on. The Miqo’te would have to reassess his personal prejudices about the Flame Marshal, who, until actually meeting the man, had been little more than red tape for the Spinner’s Lantern.

Rinh...complicated feelings about a female Keeper, though she didn’t seem overly tribal. It had given him greater pleasure than he’d ever admit that she’d been affectionate towards him, even as a ruse; greater pleasure still to drive the point of the knife against her belly, to push her away.

Seabirds rode the afternoon winds; one perched near the porthole above his bunk as he toweled off and got dressed. He wasn’t really sure why he bothered getting dressed; few talked to him when they turned in for the night, other than to make sure he hadn’t sprung his house arrest. He’d give it a few more days; deep down, he was pretty sure he didn’t have anywhere else to go, anymore.

#jeveh'li rivenroot #FFxivWrite2021 #prompt 21 #prompt 21 feckless #my writing #my characters #featuring a tiny slice of the Nixie's crew quarters #which is as Extra as they are #Seran Lancier #Malachi Bloodforged #Rinh Relanah #ffxiv Nixie

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