#bravely default brilliant lights | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

theladybug · 2 years

Text

Twenty-six was something borrowed.

She went by in a flash, yet she was also in slow motion. It didn’t feel like she was mine, as much as she was, and although everything about it was indeed mine, in a lot of ways it also wasn’t. 26 was her own analogy with her own language, who kept correcting—iterating—herself vigorously, so she wouldn’t be recorded entirely as a flaw, a bug, a glitch, or a hideous mess.

Just recently I saw this Instagram Reel of a potter smashing and breaking her flawed products to turn them back into clay and recycle them into new pieces. While I do not dare to say that 26—I—was a flawed product myself, 26 was the year when a lot of things got really, really messy.

A couple of (messy) examples: First of all, I thought I could write. Four semesters, ten unfinished drafts, maybe thirty-thousand words later, I realized writing is about both starting and finishing and all this time I’ve been only floating in the middle. Second, I thought I was smart and brave, especially being one of the few international ESL students, and also one of the only two Indonesians in the program, until I started taking classes with students who have spoken—and written—English their whole lives, who bring novel manuscripts and 30-page brilliant short stories to workshops, some of which have already been published here there everywhere, who win competitions and receive fellowships, who have taught in at least three different continents, who by default I deemed superior. With that, Smart and Brave silently exited the room. Dumb and Scared took their place instead. Lastly, I thought I knew what I wanted, had life half-figured and sort of planned out. Turns out I have only been half-living this whole time, with absolutely no idea what I’m doing and where I’m going, and meeting different people with different backgrounds and their different languages with their different, super supreme YouTube-podcast-book-meme references and their elaborate, sorted-out 10-year life plans, Notion-powered, Forbes30Under30-driven; made me grimace at my own life (obviously unsorted, unNotioned, unForbes), made me unwant what I had and want some things even harder. My dreams shape-shift. Some self-destruct, some become even more stubborn and pronounced. Either way, it ended up being too much. Too loud and too lonely. I ended up becoming one of those clay pots the potter smashed in her video. I broke. Too many times, at that.

Amidst all that fire in the house, as I am heavily self-trained to always find light in the darkness no matter how irrelevant and cringe such light can be, at 2:00 am as I cried myself to sleep I thought, what better place to be broken than New York, right? Wrong. Well at least I am in New York, right? Right, but also wrong. Despite only living here for two years-ish, I felt New York was too grand a stage for broken things. For battles I was bound to lose. For wars I wasn't prepared for. It’s too grand a stage for adult growing pains, which are basically aches everywhere in our body due to intense adulting activities (mostly the mental ones), where joy is something we pay in installments, yet horror and sadness are practically freebies. The real secret in @secretnyc Instagram page isn’t in what they tell us (10 tHiNGs yOu DoN’T wAnNa MiSs tHiS wEeKeNd), it’s in what they don’t: People bend in this city, but most of the times they break too.

That being said, for the past seven, eight months, it has really taken a village for a day to start and to not suck, for the hours to go by without too much crying in between. In the first few months there wasn’t even a “village” to begin with, for I was alone, lonely, busy succumbing. My world was shaken up and for a lot of different reasons. New York, once a jewelry box, became a death trap. I was floating but more like a sad balloon—airless and crinkled, certainly not the majestic, colorful, and dreamy-looking hot-air kind—sadly sticking to her day-to-day routine: write in the mornings, class til noon, study until dinner, naps in between.

But as much as I tried, my normal routine alone didn’t even cut it—it felt unsafe and temporary. Some days I was lucky to make it to places, some others I would be walking out of my apartment just to straight up u-turn and run back home. My naps became longer (when my normal ones already last for two hours, minimum) and turned to something I dreaded, but at the same time everything else was a lot worse. Whatever good, normal day I pulled a muscle to have, it wore off as soon as I showered and crawled back to bed. At nights, rest was impossible, but when I finally did fall asleep, I slept with a large hole in my chest, which became a perfect site for a festival of bad dreams.

So I resorted to sticking my routine to other people’s. That is how my life became something desperately borrowed: the long library hours, the brisk walks to the boba place, study sessions, the Friday getaways to Yale, last minute lunch and dinner dates, weekend hangouts, half-priced ballet and Broadway shows, ice skating. Surprise pastries that saved my lifeless, bedridden, five-kg-less ass because I couldn’t, wouldn’t, stomach anything else; shoulders on which I helplessly smeared snot all over; ears worn off from having to hear me scream and cry during phone calls or during long conversations over my dining table; iftars and suhoors turned into sleepovers. I borrowed distractions from these people, who willingly shared pieces of their lives with me, which I used to fill the large hole in my chest, hoping they could help rid it of the nightmares, however momentary. I owe so much to so many.

And what did this tiny, little piece of self do? Other than succumbing? Skipping classes, missing her meals? Seeing the days go by from her bedroom window? Hating people on Instagram who seemed contained and composed, happy and unbothered? And back to hating herself even more? Well, it woke up, and at some point, it got up from bed. Two times, it showed up to her pilates sessions. It also sought therapy. If anything, it lived and held me. And it wrote to you, eventually.

And so, writing this, putting it here, containing this internal fiasco in a language and a shape is my attempt at making a peace offering to all sorts of life’s shenanigans that I have yet to face—an effort to upcycle life just like she does, Lady Pottery. That’s 26 to me. Still a quarter life crisis, just a remix. I remember the times where I prayed so hard—Ramadan 2019, for example, which perhaps was my peak shalihah moment, excuse this shameless self-claim, because I wanted grad school so bad—for the things I do have now. These days I’d call Ibu and we’d both cry on the phone (unsure who’s soothing who?), “Bapak and I prayed for all these things for you—your scholarship and your school—and these granted prayers come with tests for our patience and perseverance…” So there you go.

I once asked my older sister how many more times she cried like a monster after 26, because I was exhausted. She said only a couple more times, because afterwards, the cry is silent. I guess if I asked Lady Pottery how many more times she still has to do recycling, the smashing and the breaking, the answer would be about the same.

So. Twenty-seven. Let’s go for a spin.

#personal #self

183 notes · View notes

bravelysanta · 7 months

Text

Hi everyone! I'm opening sign-ups for Bravely Secret Santa a couple of hours early. I made some modifications to the deadlines and guidelines so please read below:

Once the form is completed, check the response text for the link to the SneakySanta invite!

Deadlines:

1) You have until (Sunday) October 22 at 1 AM EST to sign up. I’ll also be posting regular updates so follow bravelysanta at either Twitter OR Tumblr.

This is a hard deadline. If you miss it, you miss it! Try again next year!

REMEMBER THAT YOU MUST JOIN THE GROUP ON SNEAKY SANTA - the link will show up after you fill out the form. Reach out to me on tumblr (komatsujo) or twitter (bravelykoma/fairyglowcharm) if you missed the link to join Sneaky Santa.

2) On the afternoon of October 22nd, you will receive an email with the name of the person that you’ll be gifting via Sneaky Santa.

3) Gifts are due anytime between December 22nd - 29th. If you will not be able to post it during that time, submit/msg it beforehand and I’ll post it for you.

4) If you think you may not meet the deadline, please contact me immediately and no later than December 21st. But please don’t sign up if you know your availability will be iffy in the first place.

5) If signing up as a pinch-hitter, those will be due by Jan 1st.

Guidelines:

1) If you must cancel your application, please notify me immediately either via either Tumblr (komatsujo) or twitter (bravelykoma/fairyglowcharm) or at the bravelysanta accounts, preferably before assignments are chosen. If you find you cannot meet the gifting deadline, please also notify me before the 21st.

2) When filling out your name on the Sneaky Santa website, please use your social media handle (either Tumblr or Twitter), so your Santa knows how to @ you. Example - Koma (bravelykoma).

3) Remember that you are gifting a present to someone, and be prepared to spend at least some time on it. No one likes a last-minute gift!

4) Both fanart and fanfic are accepted as submissions. Santees, please do not specifically request one or the other.

5) No AI generated art or fanfiction is allowed. The point of this is to create something for someone.

6) If there is a character and/or a ship that is an absolutely no go for you that you know is in someone’s wishlist, please let me know before the 21st (email [email protected] or DM me on Tumblr/Twitter) so I can prevent you from picking that person. Unfortunately, there’s little I’ll be able to do if they did not fill out their wishlist prior to assignment selections.

7) Please try to complete your wishlists before Oct 20th for these reasons.

8) When creating your wishlists, please take care to not be so specific as to make it difficult to fulfill the request (example: requesting specifically fanart of the Crystal Crew as kids, instead of requesting something like “I would love to see the Crystal Crew as kids, doing something cute”). However, you should have more than 1 item on your wishlist. Please try to have 3-5 different items so your Santa has some freedom!

9) Specifically requesting shippy gifts is allowed, but no NSFW material, either in wishlists or presents. This is mostly about smut, but also be mindful with gore and violence.

10) Your wishlist and present must be Bravely themed, such as Bravely Default 1 or 2, Bravely Second, Fairy’s Effect, Brilliant Lights, Praying Brage, etc.

*Octopath 1 or 2 related stuff is cool, as long as it also includes Bravely AND please keep in mind that not everyone has played those, so be careful with spoilers for them and Bravely 2.

11) Please try to keep your assignments private! Talk about them with friends in DM all you want, but if someone can find out that you’re their Santa on social media, that ruins the surprise!

12) Please tag submissions as #bravelysanta2023 !

#bravely default #bravely second #bravely default ii #bravely default 2 #bravely secret santa #bravely santa #bravelysanta2023

6 notes · View notes

bs-el · 20 days

Text

If we do get bravely sword/bravely third i genuinely hope that the bravely default writers return to patch the story together. They'll have their work cut out for them between everything revealed about the dimensional officers in brilliant lights and (I'm assuming) pocketbook of R vol 2, but i feel like they can pull it all together in a way that's satisfying even for us across the seas who didn't get those things in English. I'm like... So damn worried that so much development has been had in the jp bravely games that we might not even get bravely third/sword in English because it'd need way more context in it

#mini mii #all the English players have to go off of is what was revealed in bravely second #which isn't much at all really #it was just enough to imply some kind of organization and tell one maybe two characters who are part of the group #bravely sword #bravely default #bravely third #bravely #sword #third #default #also if they could stop making children work that'd be nice #let egil be a kid ffs

3 notes · View notes

idahofallshq · 2 years

Photo

jo's experience with immunity, while heartbreaking, is very unique. her determination is admirable and we're sure it'll play a vital part in kick-starting the route to idaho falls' liberation. we can't wait to see how this hardened soldier opens up to her fellow residents, and how her immunity will affect those around her. but will her stubbornness hold her back, or worse, catch the wrong kind of attention? will her impatience cost lives?

welcome to idaho falls, johana "jo" herrera! please make sure to complete the accepted checklist so we can invite you to our servers. we can’t wait to start writing with you!

OOC.

name: G Age: 27 Pronouns: She/her Timezone: gmt - 5 previous roleplay blog: redacted triggers: redacted wanted connection?: please write here if you are applying for a wanted connection and which one.

IC.

Name: Johana “Jo” Lucilla Herrera gender & pronouns: cis woman & she/her faceclaim: Adria Arjona age & birthdate: 32 & July 31, 2011 occupation: Enforcer . immunity: Immune

Skills.

skill one: chemistry/explosives knowledge – You tell yourself it’s a means of survival, the first time you help another street rat put together the bomb, the first time you willingly commit violence. She teaches you how to make a pipe bomb and you plant it at FEDRA’s headquarters. When that one fails, you learn how to make it better years later, and more after that. You tell yourself it’s a means of survival but you can’t help but feel close to your mom, to the brilliant woman who never really had a chance to raise you before FEDRA sent her to her death.

skill two: linguistically gifted – You grew up speaking a mosaic of languages, Spanish and English dominated your early years before French came into play and then many more. Your eyes and ears were trained to pick up on change in tone, in phrasing and words and eventually you picked up on more, learning to read and write and it’s one of the few things that still brings you genuine joy, when you find someone with a shared tongue, one from a home they may never see again. You bridge the gap for them, giving them a place to land. Not to mention it’s helpful when people want to keep secrets, using languages they think no one can understand.

skill three: melee weapon expertise – For as long as you can remember, you’ve been fighting to stay alive, to survive. Gentleness has never been your default and your heart beats like a wardrum in your chest from the moment you’re born. You run red hot like the summer sun, beating down on anyone who stands in your light too long. Quick to anger and action, you learn the hard way that if you’re going to puff up your chest, you need to know how to scrap. You learn to fight in the streets before FEDRA makes you a soldier and it’s in the streets you learn that anything can be a weapon if you make it one. You learn from the mistakes of others, watching as blows are landed, experiencing some yourself and, over the years, you become a formidable figure, quick and agile with your hands and the weapons they wield. Calluses are your constant companion, knicks and cuts and scars mar your skin but you wear each proudly. Proof of progress. Proof of survival.

positive traits.

trait one: courageous. You’re not sure if you’re born brave or if it’s something you learn. You take whatever glimmers of courage come your way by the firstful, determined to hold on as this life throws everything your way. You squeeze your eyes shut against the dark before facing it head on, chin lifted in challenge. You’ve lost so much and you’re still standing. It fuels you. It makes you feel like a wild thing, unafraid of those who might harm you. What more can they do?

trait two: determined. Ever headstrong, you’re an unmovable mountain in the face of a storm. Few things can sway you from your convictions, can get you to change your mind if you’re fully convinced. Luca was one of those things but he’s long gone and all that’s left is a memory. So you stand your ground, solid as a weathered oak, a bit bent and bowed but not broken. Never broken.

trait three: astute. Very little escapes your notice, a glance, a smirk, a whisper – keen eyes catch onto all of it. Being observant has served you well, your shrewd nature not only keeping you on your toes but keeping you alive when you need it most.

negative traits.

trait one: impatient. You’ve never been one to wait for the perfect opportunity and when you’re forced to, it goes against everything you are. You feel trapped, caged, when you can’t take action, when you’re told to wait, to seek the opportune moment. While your impatience has saved you when quick decisions are necessary, it’s also gotten you in trouble more than once.

trait two: arrogant. From the time you’re a little girl, you’re told to keep your chin up, head unbowed, will unbroken. You fix your gaze in the face of those who seek to make you feel like less than you are. Your pride keeps you from asking for help, closed fists and suspicion creates distance from others. It also prevents you from relying on them too much. You think you’re invincible. Sometimes, you feel like it too. Your arrogance builds a wall around you, protecting you from anything that might cause harm while simultaneously keeping you from anyone who might offer help.

trait three: stubborn. Your determination wins you as many admirers as your stubbornness does adversaries. What might be a virtue in one instance quickly becomes a vice in the next. Your bullheaded ways can hinder you, it can isolate others but you find it hard to see it as a bad thing. After all, there’s a reason you’ve stayed alive for so long and it’s not because you’re agreeable.

biography.

tw for trauma, illness, death, violence

2011 – Your story is not a new one. You’re born into a world that’s already in turmoil, to parents whose lives have already changed. A firefighter turned soldier and a chemistry professor turned scout. Portland is nothing like they remembered it under FEDRA and years later, you’ll wonder, without ire, why they brought you into a world like this.

2014 – You change your tune when Luca is born, and he brings with him the very same light you brought to your parents. Hope. You watch over him as he sleeps and kiss his furrowed brow.

2014 to 2022 – You’re a scrappy girl, all knobby knees and sharp elbows, pushing kids out of the way who might pick on your brother, who might pick on you. You’ve got a sharp wit and a shaper mouth, all jagged edges in a world made of them. You’re resourceful and you learn from your parents: How to stretch rations. How to read. How to patch up a wound (shoddily). How to speak the language of a home they’ll never see again. How to hold a knife.

2022 – But remember, your story is not a new one. In fact, it’s a tale as old as time and it goes like this. You wake up one cold winter day to find your mother raked with violent coughs. Coughs that conjure blood. Your story is not a new one and the three of you watch her lifeless body burn several weeks later.

2025 – You’ve grown closer to your father in the absence of your mother and you grow more protective of your brother. Danger lurks around every corner, even within FEDRA’s QZ. Especially within FEDRA’s QZ. When riots break out in the summer, lasting several weeks on end, your father is sent to deal with them. You never see his body after, but you and Luca watch trucks go by, piles of corpses in the back. You think you might spot his midnight-colored hair but blood has a way of turning everything black.

2025 – You’re scraping by, doing everything you can to avoid snatches who steal kids away in the dead of night. It’s just the two of you. You’re barely fourteen and Luca has only just turned eleven when a group of older kids take you both under their wings.

2026 – For the next year, they teach you basic skills you thought you knew but had never needed before now. They keep you and Luca alive and though your loyalty to most things apart from Luca is flimsy at best, it runs deep for them.

2026 – Too many kids have been taken in the past months and they bring up the idea of a statement. A bomb. You scrounge up whatever books your mother kept from her days as a professor and you help your fellow young rebels build their bomb. You know that your parents would’ve wanted you to fight back. So you do.

2026 – You miscalculated. The bomb doesn’t go off. Your world turns upside down. In the blink of an eye you and your band of misfit orphans are taken into FEDRA custody and your life as a solider begins.

2026 – Fifteen used to be too young to send to war but the world has changed and war looks different these days. Luca is only twelve and you do what you can to keep him safe in the jaws of those who’d sooner devour you alive than help you. You’re barely there for a month when they send you on your first patrol. There’s been a sighting but technology is no longer better than eyes and you’re sent to investigate. You’re expendable and you know it, even as you live another day.

2027 – Everything changes when Luca is bitten. Your heart stops beating and you fight like a fury, guns blazing as you try to get him to safety. His wound is deep but non-fatal and when he doesn’t turn, the small band of soldiers in charge of you both realize he’s immune.

2027 – Some things never change and greed is nothing new. They see Luca as an asset, an easy out from tasks and missions no one wants to do and when, months later, you’re scratched and don’t turn, they realize you’re immune too.

2028 – Two years have gone by and you and Luca live on edge. You know that even if a bite doesn’t kill you, a gun might. If a bite doesn’t kill you, being torn limb from limb will. You need to escape. It’s the only path you see as you lay awake at night, Luca sleeping fitfully beside you. So you start planning. Patience has never been one of your virtues but you cling to it, biding your time.

2029 – You’re eighteen, Luca is fifteen and four other low-ranking child-soldiers are brought into your small battalion. You’re not sure if you can be called children anymore. Not with what you’ve seen. What you’ve lived through. It turns out that these soldiers have hit a gold mine with the two of you and three more additional “recruits” who fall under their command. They force you all out on runs they don’t want to go on and threaten to take your rations for a week if you protest. They know you can’t say anything either, unless you want to live under FEDRA’s microscope.

2030 – There’s a swarm sighting but supplies are low and what is a task for far more trained soldiers falls to you. Why risk their lives when they can risk yours? Years from now, you’ll think back to that night as the night everything changed. It’s the night you lose Luca and a part of yourself with him. All you can see is red.

2031 – Another year. Another nail in the coffin of who you used to be. You’re twenty now and you know you’ll die if you stay under the thumb of those in power. You don’t know how much fight you have left in you – if it’s enough to take you to twenty and so this is the year you take a stand. You plot and plan with the others and with unexpected help from another higher up soldier, several strokes of luck and sheer force of will, you succeed. It’s a small rebellion but that night sixteen soldiers escape in the aftermath of a bomb setting officer quartesr alight.

2031 to 2033– Somehow, you’re not surprised that life outside of Portland is as bleak as life inside of FEDRA’s control. But you and the others travel together, training and knowledge gleaned from years spent watching experts work helps you along the way as you journey through the country – a band of survivors.

2033 – When you stumble across Jackson, two of your group settle there and you try to as well. But there’s something too peaceful about the town that makes your skin itch and sets your teeth on edge. You feel like you don’t deserve this. You should be okay with it but without Luca, without someone to protect or keep safe, you’ve long since stopped craving that for yourself. You want to keep the fire burning inside and think settling down in Jackson will only snuff it out. After several months, you leave with one remaining companion.

2033 – Two is a dangerous number and when you cross Grizzlies outside of Jackson, you barely escape with your life, separated from your friend as night provides a cover of darkness. All that you remember is chaos, and running far and fast.

2034 – You hardly trust yourself to stop over anywhere for longer than a week, paranoia sneaking in before you hear about a nearby QZ. Idaho Falls. Something about it draws you near – the stories of how people overran FEDRA, how they seized control makes you feel vindicated, even a little. Even if they had nothing to do with Portland, all FEDRA is the same to you.

2034 – You offer your experience with explosives and skills as a fighter. It’s not FEDRA and that’s enough for you. You’re twenty-two and you finally admit to yourself that you’re tired.

2037– The years pass faster than the blink of an eye and, before you know it, you’ve made a life for yourself. As a soldier, you’ve become a regular on scouting missions, having more than enough experience and little excuse to protest when it’s time to head out. You’ve managed three years unscathed but the day you’re paired with Inna Volkvo, what’s meant to be an easy mission becomes a fight for your life.

2037 – You come across a hive of runners and narrowly escape to an abandoned home. When you both realize that you’ve been scratched by one, a cut that runs deep and bleeds red. Inna knows what it means and you don’t blame her for offering to kill you peacefully. Though, it’s not much of an offer. You realize what’s happening when you’re tackled to the ground. You try to convince her you won’t turn, holding onto the truth as long as you can before a knife is to your throat and you’re forced to show your scars. To reveal the past and prove that you are what you say you are.

2037 to 2038 – Inna keeps this information to herself and while you consider using her silence to glean information, she’s thinking of how to leverage you. It’s a stalemate between the both of you, secrets kept from Alexei rarely resulting in anything good, but you can’t very well betray the fact that Inna is keeping one without revealing yourself. So you keep your head down, you do the work and treat her as you might any other entitled asshole.

2038 – The time comes for promotions and you’re elevated to enforcer. A rung in a ladder you didn’t realize you’d been climbing. It feels good, though, to be elevated by merit and skill. But the longer you’re in Idaho Falls, the more you realize these things can only get you so far – can only protect you so much.

2039 – Even her family couldn’t protect Inna and when she’s killed, you feel a strange sense of sorrow mixed with relief. Your secret is safe, even if you’re more convinced now than ever that safety is an illusion.

2040 to 2044 – Things continue to go from bad to worse to good to bad again as the years drag on. People die. Monsters swarm. Resource decline. Resources are found. Life continues. Life is hard and it’s tragic and you’ve experienced your own losses but while you’re not sure what the point of it might be, you’ve never been able to stop fighting for each day that comes your way. You couldn’t lie down and rest if you wanted.

arcs.

arc one. immunity Maybe Jo’s immunity is discovered by someone and used against her/held as leverage over her or maybe it comes in handy (ie: a dangerous situation that she volunteers for or jumps into because she knows she won’t be turned?). Also, perhaps bonding with someone else who shares immunity / the burden of it in a way.

arc two. no man is an island I’d like to see Jo rely on others. I think that as things continue to escalate, Jo will need to reevaluate her relationships and start making ones that last. There’s a storm coming and it’s threatening to blow everything away. Like anyone else, she needs people to ground her and keep her steady so I’d love to develop that.

arc three. the past never dies Jo has a lot of potential enemies and few potential friends from her past. Some potential connections I’ve begun to think of are 1) the unexpected help she and the others received in escaping the Portland FEDRA QZ. 2) The two who stayed in Jackson. What are they doing now? Why are they in Idaho Falls? 3) The friend she left behind? The one she got separated from by the Grizzlies. Did they survive on their own? Did they join the Grizzlies?

extras.

Fluent in: Spanish, English, French, Russian, Korean, Arabic (through practice with various people & self taught) Speaks / Comprehends but is not fluent in: German, Mandarin, Portuguese, Tagalog Physicality: is quite athletic / strong for her size but what she lacks in pure strength, she makes up for in speed. Relationships: probably comes off abrasive to some but is likely to step in if someone is being mistreated (albeit, a bit aggressively – ie: leave them the fuck alone!). Doesn’t abuse her Enforcer status but isn’t exactly “nice” Other Traits: Mercurial, Argumentative, Passionate, Observant, Fickle

#accepted.#another early one bc tumblr wont let me post drafts from mobile smh

2 notes · View notes