Tumgik
#kuzhuk
iggyfing · 11 days
Text
smacking kuzhuk (ffxiv oc) on the head with a rolled up newspaper for trying to bully me into adding yet another angsty song to his playlist
3 notes · View notes
avalon821 · 11 months
Text
Tumblr media
This is basically a colored sketch but whatever
9 notes · View notes
paintedscales · 7 months
Text
excellent news: i did not lose some screenshots of the other xaela characters i have after my computer's meltdown earlier this year.
putting them under the cut because there are a handful
Jajiradai with his younger brother, Odchigen.
Tumblr media
Checheyigen and Chotan:
Tumblr media
Khulan:
Tumblr media
Kuzhuk:
Tumblr media
Samga and Arik:
Tumblr media
13 notes · View notes
ansemaru · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
My third Xaela alt, Kuzhuk Bairon.
12 notes · View notes
iggyfingarts · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
my two special boys
half a second before the ultima weapon explodes
7 notes · View notes
the-littlest-kojin · 9 months
Note
If the beach is busy, Kuzhuk would wait until one of the quieter hours and chill with Sald. Watching the fireworks or watching her run around and have fun. (If she wanted he would do like those watermelon crushing contests)
Tumblr media
"I'm really impressed with how you split this melon! I've got your half safe, and the fireworks have started - sit down, relax."
5 notes · View notes
pangolinheart · 1 year
Note
I’m partially using this as an excuse to let out these ideas that have been pinging around my brain
I tend to keep certain things in mind when coming with outfits/glams for my characters, so this is all just nonsense about what fashion tastes I assign to them
Tyr is more understated. He doesn’t like calling attention to himself and it’s reflected in what he wears. Casually I put him in something more for fitted but not revealing or just what I feel like is the fantasy fashion equivalent of a nice t shirt. The shirt I tend to doodle him in is deadass just a rip of that shirt from the Netflix witcher where Geralt is fishing around in the lake. The dalmascan top is more of a workout shirt/ “it’s really hot out here but I don’t want to be bare chested” top.His armor got a little more ornate as he’s gotten through expacs, but I still try to keep it simple and with more plate than fabric.
The operative word for Monroe is loose. Point shirts, long jackets, that sort of thing. She gets more accessories/ jewelry. I tend to giver her silver/black more than gold since she’s got a lot of warm tones going on already and silver and a colder black/gray stands out more. More willing to show skin than Tyr, mostly in the chest area than anywhere else. She’s predominantly ranged so there’s not much difference between casual and armor.
Both of them lean more masculine for fashion, so skirts/ dresses are not really in their usual attires/ in their comfort.
Freya is the most feminine. She wears mostly skirts/dresses. She not like opposed to pants, but it’s more of “if there’s no other choice” option. Also has a preference for loose. I would describe her taste as cottagecore/elegant. I personally don’t dress in her degree of feminine so it’s a little harder to pick out for me.
Kuzhuk is the least caring about his fashion. All he wants is for it to fit and not be restrictive. He doesn’t wear a shirt or many accessories. Not opposed to skirts, he just doesn’t think about them much.
Oooooh I love fashion analysis!! Poor Tyr already stands out in Eorzea, so I'm sure he doesn't need to attract more attention by being a flashy dresser. Tyr definitely feels like, in a more modern setting, he would be a "Jeans and a T-shirt" guy - in a good way. (Though horns might make putting on a t-shirt problematic...) I think the shirt you mentioned is a good fantasy equivalent - and it seems like it clasps or button or laces or something to make it easier to put on.
There are a pretty good number of secondary and tertiary characters in FFXIV that are always seen wearing armor or otherwise uncomfortable formal clothing that they probably don't wear all the time, and I semi-regularly wonder what they wear in their free time when they're not wearing armor or a uniform....
Monroe has good taste I looove some of the long jackets in FFXIV. The fact that a lot of her accessories are silver is an interesting choice! I feel like some people might go with gold because it's closer to the warm tones in her color scheme, but I like the way the silver pops. I've also always liked all of Monroe's piercings. Long Viera ears means there are soooo many possibilities for piercings!
Freya definitely looks like she could pull off flowy, drape-y, feminine dresses dresses and skirts! (She's lucky she's a viera and therefore tall lol). The options in-game for actual dresses is a little limited, but I can envision it very well nonetheless.
Kuzhuk is valid for never wanting to wear a shirt. Hopefully he doesn't get sunburned.... Sunburn is also something I think about a lot in-game/in fantasy settings in general. Probably because I'm the type of person who gets a sunburn if they so much as glance at the sun through a window. It's bad enough that when I was in elementary school some other kids started a rumor that i was a vampire because if I spent too much time in the sun at recess i would get a sun poisoning rash... Kuzhuk seems like he's probably better equipped to deal with it, though!
4 notes · View notes
shadowssolace · 3 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A cavalcade of characters in continuously cool and couture clothing.
15 notes · View notes
altanjhungid · 4 years
Text
haute couture
“What is magick?”
A familiar silence pervaded the auditorium. Kuzhuk smiles as if on cue; this too was part of the act. Confusion as lubrication.
“Magick is aether plus intent. The interaction of the two is what makes everything from Thaumaturgy to Astrology possible. For a powerful enough magus, intent alone is enough, but for most of us? We require pathways.”
He walks up and down the isles as he speaks, moving his hands about, animated with passion as he starts to shape the metaphor.
“Think of it like... Traveling Coerthas after a heavy snowfall. It takes a brave caravaneer to blaze the trail and carve out the snow for others to follow. But such pioneers do more than show us the way. They give us the confidence we require as well too; the Faith that our efforts will not be wasted which bolsters our morale, reducing travel time, enhancing the profitability of the trip. And the more Faith there is, the deeper the grooves, and the easier the journey.”
He guides their thoughts; makes them picture a snowy field after a blizzard gradually unraveling to normalcy. His words are a spell unto themselves; the magick of communication.
“There are problems that come with sticking to the path however. Shortcuts that we cannot see. Sometimes, bandits lurk over the crest of the hill. They know exactly where to hide; the path informs them too. This is much the same in the realm of aethershaping. Thought terminating cliches arise naturally, deadening your spells. Your magicks weakens when you go through motions rather than truly embracing the ritual. It isn’t enough to invoke, one must call forth the forms from the wellspring within us all.”
And now to bring them home, he tells himself. Give them the inspiration they require to... feel inspired. To fool themselves into thinking that they learned something today.
“Make your spells yours. No man looks as splendid in a mass produced soldier’s uniform as he does in a finely tailored officer’s coat. Status is only part of the trick. Personalization closes the loop.“
***
One by one they filter out of the room until the space that once held two Xaela and countless Hyur and Elezen only holds its darkscaled visitors. Kuzhuk turns his back to the danger, bends over his lectern, and starts to gather his notes in performative obliviousness. The dagger slips from its sheath and he draws a breath into his tight chest then looses it smoothly, “Can I help you?”
3 notes · View notes
Text
3-3
Tumblr media
After a half an hour of deliberation, I picked out the stone that seemed most likely to incapacitate, if not outright kill a man. I debated between the winner and its neighbor, weighing the pros and cons of their uneven edges, fingering their worn facades. When the time came, I flipped my pencil around and began to scrape-scrape-scrape at the edges where the dirt was packed in around them. To my delight, the Doman jail was every bit as much a piece of shit as I suspected and the piles of grime added up in record time. The Empire can conquer a nation, but it hasn’t quite mastered the art of improving it just yet, and what luck for me that they can’t.
I barely slept; the quiet shakka-shakka-shakka like a monk’s mantra that put me into a trance for hours as I worked at the edges, stopping only when I heard the clack of boots on stone in approach. By daylight, half the stone jutted out of its grimy foundation and my pencil still had a respectable amount of life left in it. In came breakfast, an overcooked bowl of rice that frankly tasted like the essence of jack shit given a tangible form, and by lunch I had levered the massive chunk out just in time for the pencil to buckle and split. I’ve always had pretty good luck, relatively speaking.
Just as I was mapping out the guard schedules to plot what would almost certainly be an escape for the ages, a familiar tone sailed through and snagged my attention. Could it be...? The swish of a heavy cape heralded his entrance long before his voice; whoever the fuck he was now, he had a real erection for dramatics. Admittedly, it’s a little charming.
"Oh Kat," he chided low, and I couldn’t help but smirk in spite of myself. What a bastard. "To see you here; it breaks my heart. Truly." He split into a smile of his own, and for a moment I couldn’t tell if I was about to luck out or be out of luck. This one is a weirdo. "Did I not warn you against coming here? If only you'd listened. I told you to head to the Confederacy for a reason, darling. I mean," he drawls, motioning at the bruises on her face, "Just look at you. It's such a damn pity."
The black eye was admittedly not my finest moment, and he must have seen the way I staggered to get up off the floor. With a sweep of his arm, the guards left the room. In mere minutes, I was exiting my cell with a vague sense of disappointment that I never got to try out my hard-earned weapon, but who am I to look a gift jailbreak in the mouth? I hit the outside running, sprinting for the coast.
6 notes · View notes
pom-friend · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media
A commission of Kuzhuk Olkund on Balmung!
I still need a name for this kind of style. It started as me messing with a new pen brush in Clip Studio Paint and turned into me having fun experimenting with colors and high contrast by making the silhouette first and then erasing the forms from it.
If you are interested in a commission, please see the pinned message on this blog!
10 notes · View notes
iggyfing · 1 year
Text
finished dragonsong war on kuzhuk and in the post-final-steps cutscene he was missing his hat but then in the next loaded cutscene he had it back, which means that it got knocked off in the fight and also that his first priority post-yeet was to retrieve it and put it back on which is hilarious and in-character
2 notes · View notes
avalon821 · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
What the point of having 2 xaela OCs if you don’t have them beat the shit out of each other ever so often
9 notes · View notes
paintedscales · 1 year
Text
005. Oroq
Tumblr media
Much is on the mind of Nomin as she recollects her time with Cotota. Her thoughts interfere with a lot of her studies as she attempts to learn what she can from Bayarmaa. After a pep talk and slowly getting back to her usual self, the Oroq show up on migration. Curious by the sleds of the Oroq, Nomin goes to investigate...much to the dismay of one of the Oroqi children.
Warnings: Bullying
Word Count: 5,260
Steppe by Steppe Chapter List
Tumblr media
Days came and went, and Nomin still had Cotota on her mind. It was hard to not think about her. From Cotota’s show of strength taking down her tiger, to the humiliation that her parents made her endure in order to apologize to the Sagahl. Her worry bled into her studying anything that Bayarmaa attempted to teach her in regards to vegetation that was expected within the next season.
“I don’t think there’s really any point in fretting over her too much…” Jajiradai said one day as he and Nomin sat next to the riverbank of the Rai Khaal. Nomin revealed her worries and how she hoped Cotota really was fine. “I hate the idea just as much as you that she’d be in trouble, but what the Qerel do versus what we do… I mean, I’m sure she’ll be fine after whatever punishment is thrown her way. I hope…”
The conversation did little to assuage Nomin’s worries and doubts overall. It culminated to a point where Bayarmaa sat across the table from Nomin at one point and confronted her about it.
"What's been bothering you?" Bayarmaa started, placing the things they were studying aside to show that they were no longer the focus for the time being. "You've been so distracted ever since you and Esenaij came back from the impromptu visit with the Qerel. Is everything alright?"
Nomin gave a shrug of her shoulders.
"I don't know…" Nomin admitted. "I guess… Maybe I wonder if that's what my mother and father would have thought of me if I went back to the Tumet Iloh."
"How would that be?" Bayarmaa asked, wanting some elaboration since she had not been there to witness nor hear everything that happened. She folded her arms over the table, however, and gave Nomin her undivided attention.
There was brief hesitance, though Nomin opened up about what she saw and heard to Bayarmaa. She made mention how it upset her how Cotota's parents said that she was a disappointment to the tribe and her parents. The more she mentioned, the more Nomin’s gaze went down to the table, her eyes locking onto the grooves of the wood grain as if they were solvable mazes. Though they were meant to distract her, they did little in the way to occupy her mind enough to prevent her from how frustrated and worried she still felt.
"Nomin…" Bayarmaa said, a soft sigh coming for her as she stood up and walked over. She placed a gentle, reassuring hand on Nomin's shoulder. "You're far from a disappointment. I might be ignorant still on the methods and ways of the Tumet, but that won't stop me from telling you that you are not a disappointment. There are children who run free now thanks to you if the story you shared is true. I could never ever think of your act the day you were brought into mine and Esenaij’s lives makes you a disappointment. If your parents would have thought otherwise if you went back to them and we knew them then ourselves? Why, I-I'd simply scoop you right up and take you right back here."
A halfhearted smile tugged at the corner of Nomin's lips in response to Bayarmaa’s encouragement. Nomin had been more than happy at the time to share her tale about her journey from the site of the dawn pines to Reunion. Though, after what she did at her trial in the first place, going back would have meant being cast out as an exile should the adults have been told of her act. Nomin only hoped that if the Tumeti children she freed went back that no one spoke a word that they were freed by someone else.
"I guess it's kind of silly to think about what they would say or think of me anyway, huh?" Nomin said with a bit of a chuckle. The longer Bayarmaa’s words had to stew within her mind, the more that Nomin became more self-reassured that her place -- for now -- was with both Bayarmaa and Esenaij.
From that point, Nomin started to grow slowly less worried as the days went on, and resumed her diligence in studying whatever Bayarmaa had for her, or whatever Esenaij begrudgingly brought to the table on days he could. Nomin was more than happy to take in the information taught to her, and even drew pictures of the fruits and vegetables on sheets of vellum traded to them from merchants from beyond the Steppe that traded openly at the markets of Reunion.
Before Nomin, on a table, were several different bulbs one day. Bayarmaa had gathered them from some of what the other Sagahl brought back from their own excursions. This day, she was being taught about bulbs that grew within the area that could be identified.
“This one is a dusk onion. You can tell by how the flowers turn red or purple, much like when the lands start to embrace the night. When the flowers reach deep shades of purple or red, that is when you know the bulbs are best for harvest. That is when it shall bring out the most flavor for our food,” Bayarmaa explained, pointing out the flowers that were still on its stalk. “Though they are small, they, like everything else here, are valuable.”
Bayarmaa grabbed a knife from her belt and cut the stalk from the onion. “See how I leave this much of the onion on the stalk? We shall be taking this with us on our excursion today to replant it so that this may yet bless us further with its bounty.”
“And this is where bittergrass comes from!” Nomin said, pointing at a different bulb whose stalks were more grass-like and thin. She had already drawn the dusk onion on her papers as best as she could. Drawings would have to suffice since Bayarmaa had also been in the process of teaching her how to read and write. It turned out that Nomin would have only been afforded that opportunity had she returned to the site of the Tumet Iloh to show she overcame her trial to the rest of the tribe.
“That’s right! Bittergrass is a little harder to tell whenever it is ready…at least when you look at it. We smell for when it is ready instead. If they have no smell to them, they’re not ready, but if they smell fragrant and somewhat sweet with sour notes, they are perfect to collect. Normally, we wouldn't harvest the bulb for this one, but I wanted to show it to you before we plant this where it will grow new bittergrass.” Bayarmaa smiled at Nomin’s grasp of being able to recognize some of the plants already. It seemed that Nomin at least paid attention to some horticultural facts and observations with the Tumet whenever afforded.
“Bayarmaa~” a sing-song voice called out from outside the ger entrance. Nomin looked up, recognizing the voice as belonging to Turakina from the time they went to Reunion together. “The Oroq are passing by on migration~”
At those words, Nomin noticed how Bayarmaa’s tail flicked up in delight, and saw how she raised a hand to straighten out her hair. A different kind of smile spread across her face, and Nomin could only tilt her head quizzically. She looked at the various bulbs on the table and then looked back up at Bayarmaa.
Was the lesson over for the day?
“I’ll be out shortly! Thank you, Turakina!” Bayarmaa called back. She straightened out her robes, and huffed gently. She looked down at Nomin and offered a sheepish smile.
“My apologies, Nomin. When the Oroq come past our site on migration, they usually stop to trade goods with us.” Bayarmaa seemed to have been hiding something as she spoke with Nomin. Though, she neglected to say anything more and started putting the bulbs away into a basket woven from reeds for later planting. Pausing, she looked back at Nomin, who resumed drawing on her vellum, and then had a momentary consideration.
“Why don’t you come greet the Oroq with us? Now that you no longer don the colors of the Tumet and are essentially Sagahli yourself, you should meet one of our closest allies! Maybe you can even make some friends among them.”
Nomin looked up at Bayarmaa and put down her charcoal. Standing, she wiped her hands on a piece of cloth that was sitting next to her for smudging her drawings and making some extra detail if she wanted. Once her hands were cleaned, she joined Bayarmaa’s side and traveled outside of the ger to see the Oroqi Xaela coming by on their horses. Behind those horses, however, were sleds that were made of reeds.
Nomin seemed impressed, though her expression went back to confusion. How did they get the sleds to move so smoothly? The other thing she wanted to know was how the Sagahl and the Oroq were close allies when it seemed their tribal customs would have been somewhat of a conflict of interest. She really wanted to know more. Especially since the sleds looked to have had Xaela women and children as well as food, supplies, and materials for building their new iloh. However, before Nomin could ask Bayarmaa anything, Bayarmaa had already been gone, running up to one of the Xaela men that dismounted his horse.
Jogging to catch up, Nomin stopped when she saw Bayarmaa tiptoe to meet and rub her horns with this new mystery Oroqi man.
Nomin scrunched up her face and seemed disgusted by the act. After all, adult Xaela who loved each other had normally engaged in such acts -- but to do it so openly seemed very weird and gross!
When the man took notice of Nomin staring up at him, however, he stood up straighter and looked away, his cheeks growing flush. He seemed surprised and embarrassed both, leaving Bayarmaa confused until she looked down and saw Nomin standing there. Quickly exchanging glances from Nomin to the Oroqi man, Bayarmaa herself seemed flustered for a moment.
Clearing her throat, Bayarmaa soon collected herself and placed a gentle hand on Nomin’s shoulder, coaxing her forward. Smiling at the Oroqi man, Bayarmaa introduced the two: “Kuzhuk, this is Nomin. She’s new to mine and Esenaij’s life. And Nomin, this is Kuzhuk of Oroq.”
Kuzhuk’s look of embarrassment had not faded away entirely, though he looked at Nomin and offered her a smile as he lifted his hand in greeting. His eyes flicked toward Bayarmaa momentarily, though he regarded Nomin in a friendly manner, “‘tis good to meet you, Nomin.”
Nomin could really only gaze up at the man and the colors he wore, burning it into her memory. The members of the Oroq wore a deep, dusty purple. She considered it akin to a nighttime shade of violet. With a sense of satisfaction at committing his appearance and tribe color to memory, Nomin smiled back up at him.
“It’s good to meet you, too!” Nomin finally said after an unintentional staring contest and a long moment of silence. The sudden outburst made the man -- Kuzhuk -- give a slight start before he started laughing lightly.
“So then, little Nomin, what have the Sagahl to trade this day before the Naadam?” Kuzhuk asked, attempting to make light banter in order to get to know Nomin more. The smile of amusement remained on his face as he awaited the answer.
Nomin looked up at Bayarmaa. She learned much about the Steppe and what was available, though she could only hope that what she was about to say was right. Going back to staring Kuzhuk straight in the eye, Nomin replied with: “we have dawn plums and fava beans. Bayarmaa and Esenaij taught me that you must wait till the plums are fully pink. That’s when they’re the sweetest! And the fava beans can be enjoyed however you want as long as they are still good!”
Bayarmaa smiled, a soft scoff of satisfaction falling from her lips as she lifted her hand to stroke Nomin’s head before looking back at Kuzhuk.
“I have been teaching her about bulbs these past couple days, that she may be ready to harvest them in the spring proper,” Bayarmaa spoke up.
Nomin, however, kept staring at Kuzhuk, who certainly took notice. He broke eye contact to turn his attention to Bayarmaa. He was about to speak before Nomin opened her mouth again and asked, “are you and Bayarmaa betrothed?”
There was a pause. A pregnant one at that.
Bayarmaa cleared her throat once more, removing her hand from Nomin’s person. Kuzhuk, meanwhile, had this taken aback expression upon his face, his cheeks reddening further than they had been prior. Both of them looked more sheepish than anything after a time.
Considering what Bayarmaa told Nomin about the Oroq being one of the Sagahl's closest allies, Nomin was really just connecting dots based on what she remembered and saw. Intertribal relationships were not unheard of, after all. In fact, some of them were even beneficial to maintain positive relationships with other tribes at times.
“Something like that…” Bayarmaa finally said. She glanced at Kuzhuk, a somewhat apologetic look upon her face. Glancing past him, however, she noticed some of the other children that were visiting and already excitedly getting to talk or play with some of the Sagahli children. Pointing them out to Nomin in hopes that it would distract her, Bayarmaa said: “Nomin… why don’t you go and introduce yourself to the other Oroqi children?”
“What will you be doing?” Nomin turned her quizzical stare up at Bayarmaa.
“I’ll be trading the goods I have collected with Kuzhuk before they resume their migration,” Bayarmaa replied. “Once we have everything, I'll show you what we do with the goods we receive from the Oroq.”
“Alright…” Nomin replied, feeling like there was a bit more to Bayarmaa and Kuzhuk’s reunion than they were willing to divulge. Regardless, Nomin dropped it and started walking toward the other Oroqi reed sleds, and where the children were getting to play with one another.
Curiosity as to how the sleds worked in ferrying people and supplies over the grasslands, however, compelled Nomin to approach one of the vacant ones. Exercising caution when it came to the horse still attached to its harness, Nomin neared the sled it led. Making sure the sled was truly bereft of any passengers, owners, and otherwise living people, Nomin then observed the sled more closely. She noted the shiny substance on the reeds that made up the vehicle and hummed softly in thought.
When Nomin touched the sled’s outside reeds, her hand returned mildly slick. Tilting her head, she wondered if this was the reason the sleds were able to glide across the Steppe with little to no problem. Out of sheer curiosity, she brought her hand to her nose, taking a sniff. Surprisingly, whatever the substance was, it smelled…well, it smelled delicious.
“What are you doing?” asked the annoyed voice of another child behind Nomin, his voice somewhat shrill to her horns. It caused her to jump and wipe her hand frantically on her deel. Turning, she saw the other child, his scales were a brilliant black, unlike Nomin’s. Of course that had to be the first thing she noticed.
“S-Sorry…” Nomin started, not necessarily knowing what she was apologizing for. “I just want to know how you can pull the sleds across the Steppe. I thought I could learn by looking.”
“And touching?” the boy drawled, clearly unimpressed as he folded his arms over his chest.
“Well…yeah. Sometimes you can learn by touching. Bayarmaa taught me that you can tell when dawn plums are going bad if their skin gives way under your fingertips,” Nomin reasoned. A proud smile spread across her lips as she got to share some of the knowledge she retained.
“Our sleds aren’t plums!” the boy hotly retorted. Though the boy held her attention, Nomin’s eyes flicked to the side to look past him. A woman wearing the Oroqi colors was fast approaching.
“Yul! Do not yell at the Sagahli girl!” the woman scolded, coming over and giving Nomin an apologetic look.
“She was touching our sled, mother!” Yul protested. “You and papa said we shouldn’t touch the sleds after we’ve coated them in horse fat. So strangers definitely shouldn’t be touching it!”
“It’s horse fat!” Nomin exclaimed, making both Yul and his mother give the young girl shared looks of bemusement. Though Nomin had a big smile on her face when she looked between both Yul and the Oroqi woman, she quickly realized that their looks meant that maybe she should explain herself. And so she continued: “I was…I was wondering how you get the sleds to move across the land. I see now!”
“Is this all you were curious about, young one?” the mother gently asked, a weary smile growing on her face. It seemed she was a little more forgiving than her son. In response, however, Nomin nodded to the woman’s inquiry.
“I see that perhaps you have missed being able to meet the Oroq during our migrations,” the woman said, an amused sigh leaving her nose. “Yes, we Oroq travel with sleds to carry our possessions and children from one place to another. Should a mother be heavy with child, or need moments to feed a newborn, she will also ride in them. In order to have them move across the lands, we take the fat from the horses we consume in our meals, and melt it down before dipping and soaking the reeds we use to make our sleds in them.”
“Yeah, and you shouldn’t touch them!” Yul squeezed in with an angry pout. He folded his arms over his chest as he gave Nomin a disdainful look.
“Yul…” his mother started before looking back at Nomin. Her smile faded before she went on to say, “though my son is correct. Should any touch the sleds, our hands remove the horse fat’s beneficial application. Should it be wiped off, our sleds will not move as well across the inner grasslands where we travel.”
“Oh…” Nomin frowned, reflecting on her actions now that she was told how it negatively affected the Oroq. “I’m sorry, miss. I didn’t know that. Thank you for telling me.”
The mother looked surprised when Nomin apologized and then thanked her.
“What manners! Your parents must be very proud of you,” the Oroqi woman complimented with a big smile. She then looked to her son, “I know you can also be a good boy, Yul…but maybe you can also take some pointers from this Sagahli girl!”
For a moment, Nomin’s lips pursed into a tight smile. She had not the heart to state that she no longer lived with them. Not that she necessarily wanted to relive any of her final moments as being considered a child of Tumet, either.
“Mother!” Yul gasped, gawking at his mother momentarily then glowering at Nomin. Though he did this, Nomin only met his gaze with a giggle. She was more just amused that his mother seemed to have liked her in some capacity.
“Oh! While I’m here…do you perhaps know what I might use to help aid with stomach pains?” the Oroqi mother asked. She was met with a shake of the head from Nomin.
“No…I haven’t learned how to look for or make remedies, yet. Just fruits and vegetables,” Nomin replied. She thought about it, and then pointed a finger in Bayarmaa’s direction. “Bayarmaa can help, though! She’s been teaching me what the Steppe’s bounties are and how to look for them when they’re ready!”
Yul’s mother thanked Nomin and reminded her not to touch the sleds before she departed in the direction of Bayarmaa and Kuzhuk’s location. Yul, meanwhile, still seemed to have been glaring down at Nomin as he continued to stand there, arms still folded over his chest. When Nomin looked back at him, she quirked her brow and tilted her head. Before long, she shrugged her shoulders and looked over to where the other children were collected.
As Nomin walked, she noticed that Yul was tailing her, that look still on his face, and his arms still folded over his chest. Focusing back on walking toward the others, she decided it was best to ignore him for now as she approached the children that she recognized. Jajiradai and Odchigen were the first that Nomin lifted a hand in greeting to.
“Glad to see you could join us, Nomin! We were just getting ready to play ail ger!” Odchigen happily chirped, grinning. He was holding several stones and sticks in his hand, and when Nomin looked past him at the other children, they were already working on setting up their stones to mark their ‘ger’ to play in. It was a fun enough activity to pass the time with, though admittedly, Nomin was not particularly feeling like she wanted to play in a pretend ger with pretend furniture at that moment. Not when…
“Careful asking this one to play ‘ail ger’ with everyone else!” Yul drawled. With her back still turned to him, Nomin rolled her eyes. All the while, Yul marched past her, nosed turned up into the air. “She might just put her hands on everything and ruin the layout of the ger.”
Frowning, Nomin placed her hands on her hips.
“Bah, don't be a sore, Yul!” one of the other Oroqi kids piped up, lifting a hand to hide their snickering. Some of the Oroqi kids chuckled as well. It seemed that this was a constant, and not something that started with Nomin.
“I'm not being a sore! I'm just warning you that she's a menace! She already put her hands all over the sleds,” Yul heatedly replied, balling his hands into fists and thrusting them down at his sides. His tail flicked with annoyance and he pointed an angry look at the other Oroq children.
Nomin tutted, furrowing her brow.
For a brief moment, Jajiradai let out a soft chuckle before he composed himself. He then looked in Nomin’s direction. He seemed a bit incredulous at best, though he asked her, “did you touch their sleds at all?”
“Just a little,” Nomin replied. “I wanted to know how the sleds moved across the grass. Yul’s mother told me, and that was that. It was just a little bit; on my fingertips.”
Nomin looked down at her aforementioned fingertips and noted the slight sheen of horse fat that still lingered. She would need to wash her hands properly later.
“Oh no! Whatever will we do, Yul? A little touch is going to stop all the sleds from carrying us across the Steppe now!” one of the Oroqi children chortled, lightly tossing some pulled up grass in his direction. In response, Yul gasped in annoyance before huffing and sitting down on the ground. He pulled his arms back so that they were folded over his chest as he hunched over in defiance.
Sighing with some sense of annoyance herself, Nomin walked forward to the other children and started helping them out. She was grateful that none of them really pointed out her scale discolorations as she straightened out some aspects of the ‘ger’ that were set up. As time went on, Nomin noticed one of the other Sagahli girls decorating the collection of stones and sticks she had with dried flowers, a gentle smile on her face.
Expressing delight in this as she ran over, Nomin asked the girl about the flowers and what types they were. Though the girl was surprised and even shied away a bit, she soon settled and composed herself. The other Sagahli girl was gentle with her words -- the way she spoke had a kind of airy softness to it as she conversed with Nomin.
Introductions were shared, and Nomin learned that this Sagahli girl’s name was Chotan. The more that they played together, the more that it was revealed that Chotan liked pressing flowers and utilizing methods she learned from her mother to preserve them -- which had been evident in the flower hairpin she wore upon her head of dark auburn. Still, it was nice to have connected with another child of the Sagahl. It allowed Nomin to forget Yul and his overall sour demeanor when it concerned her for the most part.
However, with her thoughts having flickered back to him, Nomin settled on her haunches and then looked over to where Yul still sat. Instead of having his arms folded over his chest, he had since pulled his knees up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them as he watched the other kids play.
Alone.
Expelling a sigh as a part of her felt bad seeing him all by himself, Nomin pushed herself back up onto her feet. She looked down at Chotan and gave her a slightly wry smile. She then looked down at their ‘ger’ and tried to figure out what was what for the most part. With all the flowers that were scattered about, Nomin brought a hand to her chin before she leaned down and picked up a small wreath of white and orange flowers that Chotan wove together to make a kitchen decoration with.
“Do you mind if I have this for a bit?” Nomin asked, turning to look back at Chotan after she picked it up.
“Hm? I guess not…” Chotan brought a finger to her chin, eyes flicking from the wreath back up at Nomin. “What were you going to use it for?”
“An offering, I guess…”
“‘Offering’?” Chotan repeated the word, her expression growing contemplative.
“Mhm… Nothing bad, I promise.” Nomin did her best to sound reassuring, a smile growing on her lips as she looked at Chotan. Her annoyance had mostly faded, though part of her still did not want to approach Yul. Had she not seen how no one else asked him to play with them, though…well, she might not have had it in her mind to approach him.
“... Sure. Just bring it back. I’d like to use the flowers later.”
“I will!” Nomin chirped before she started walking back over to Yul. Her smile faded once she turned away from Chotan.
Swallowing back a sigh, Nomin neared Yul and looked down at him. She hesitated, but eventually offered the wreath of flowers with some caution. She hoped that Yul would not have taken the wreath and ripped it apart, or something of the like.
“What do you want?” Yul grumbled, furrowing his brow and looking away from Nomin.
The corner of Nomin’s lip tugged downward in a slight frown momentarily. Though Yul’s personality was certainly annoying, she felt no real animosity toward him. In fact, she felt more of the same kind of tug to him that she felt when she was compelled to help free the other Tumeti children that had no qualms to it.
“... I wanted to ask if you wanted to play with Chotan and I for ail ger…” Nomin said. She lifted the floral wreath to emphasize it. “Chotan’s been making a lot of neat little flower items for the ger we have. And, well, we have room for more people to play with us. Maybe you can tell us how you make sleds so that we have one for our ger!”
A moment of silence passed before Yul finally turned his head and looked up at Nomin. His brow was still slightly furrowed, and he still had an annoyed frown upon his face. Though, he let out a sigh and stood himself back up onto his feet. It was that moment that Nomin noticed that the two of them were relatively similar in height. Though she did not take time to think about it too long, she instead offered the wreath to Yul.
“Chotan would like to have this back…but you’re welcome to play with us…” Nomin said, inviting Yul along to their ‘ger.’
“... Fine…” Yul conceded, letting Nomin lead the way back. He did not take up the wreath, instead waving it off and making Nomin pull it back fully into her own possession. Regardless of the fact he did not want the wreath, Nomin turned and led the way back to Chotan and the ger layout she was cleaning up and rearranging flowers on.
Regarding Nomin kindly, Chotan smiled up at her, and then gave the same amount of consideration to Yul in turn.
“Welcome…” Chotan softly greeted.
“Yea, hello…” Yul stiffly said in response. He leaned forward and then side to side, looking at the layout. His face twisted into some manner of confusion all the while as he attempted to make heads or tails of what everything was meant to represent. When he voiced his questions finally, Nomin allowed Chotan to take the reins in gently explaining their ail ger.
As time went on, and Chotan was allowed to explain things in her own way, Nomin noticed how Yul’s disposition started to soften and become more amicable. The more that they played with some aspects of their ger, the more that Yul even regarded Nomin in an eager and nice fashion as they shared some of the play-chores and responsibilities of taking care of their play area.
Then, eventually, night started extending its grip upon the land as the skies went from blue to being bathed in a warm pink and orange. More than that, the Oroq parents had come to collect their children, telling them that while they were welcome within the Sagahl Iloh, they had to still adhere to their own chores and duties while they were there.
“I kind of wanted to keep playing…” Yul muttered, sighing to himself.
“There’s always tomorrow,” Chotan said. During the course of their activities with one another, she had made several more flower wreaths. She gave one to Nomin already, having woven one of orange and golden flowers that rested upon her head. Now, she was offering Yul his own flower wreath, made up of purple and red flowers. “In the meantime, you can have this. If you like it, I can make you some that won’t wilt.”
Yul looked at Chotan, a little dumbfounded before he carefully and gingerly took the wreath from her. There was a pause before he finally said, “thank you. I…wouldn’t mind some that didn’t wilt…”
Nomin offered a grin. She was pleased about how the events played out overall for the day. She got to learn about the Oroq and their sleds, and she got to make friends with Chotan and maybe even Yul! Even if neither of them really wanted to admit it at all.
“Can I get some that don’t wilt, too?” Nomin asked, skipping over to Chotan.
“Of course!” Chotan responded, giggling softly. “I love making them. I’ll be glad to have something made for all of us as friends.”
“‘Friends’...?” Yul cocked his head to the side, humming lowly to himself in thought. He then gave them a rueful smile. “You consider me a…a friend?”
“Why not?” Chotan started in response, looking toward Yul quizzically. “I had a lot of fun playing with you and Nomin today.”
Yul’s mouth fell open in wanting to say something, but he quickly closed it. He then looked down at the flower wreath in his hand. He nodded a couple of times, his gaze locked upon the wreath of flowers. “Y-yea…yea! I had fun, too. Let’s play more tomorrow!”
“Of course!” Nomin happily replied.
Tumblr media
11 notes · View notes
quintos-the-storm · 5 years
Text
4. Shifting Blame
“What is it that drives you, Kuzhuk? Why do you keep going to these lengths?”
The question was a pertinent one. Kuzhuk Anchin had done a number of things one might find questionable over the years. The xaela could see his path to this point laid clearly before him. His father, the coward lay dead at his hands. His own tribe forsaken and now destroyed, not his own fault but perhaps if he’d gone back with his newfound power he could have made some difference. His time in Eorzea was filled with lies meant to manipulate his way into a position where he could better start and run his business. Kuzhuk saw the endless times he actively planned against his own allies and sometimes even his own employees just so he could gain just a little more of an advantage in a situation, so he could run his business his way.
It was never really his business to begin with was it though?
“Power...I need to consolidate my power so that I never fall victim to someone else ever again,” He replied confidently, his tone cool and practiced. The same tone he took when trying to speak to anyone who he tried to convince his perspective was the correct one.
The sardonic reply came quickly, “Hah! Is that so? Whatever you tell yourself to sleep at night. Oh I forgot...you often don’t do that either do you?”
Kuzhuk kept his cool and replied, “You and you alone know for certain what that man did to me. Were you not the one who told me I needed to break the chains that bound me to the coward?”
The laughter came even more quickly at that, “So I was. And that is a convenient enough excuse for back then. How long do you expect it to hold up though? Someone will catch on eventually. They’ll realize what’s happening when you continue to grow stronger and they’ll wonder what you’re holding onto all this power for. You’ll become a villain to them. To all of them...and they’ll strike you down so easily.”
“And you think your path is better?” Kuzhuk snapped back. It was bad enough that that woman had a hold of the reigns on Kuzhuk’s business and everything he accomplished for the time being, he was not going to let anyone else do the same to him.
Another laugh assaulted Kuzhuk’s hearing, “Is anyone really judging what’s better and what’s worse? Just think of it this way, at least you wouldn’t have to lie to yourself anymore about who’s to blame. That’s the most disgusting thing about it all.”
That managed to rattle Kuzhuk’s chains, the xaela’s fists tightening at the words. “You dare say such a thing about me when I speak in nothing but fact?” The man’s voice raised with all the pent up coldness and hatred he held within. He whirled around to face...nothing. There was nobody there in the office with him.
A knock came on the door and a familiar voice came through the wood, ��Are you well, Lord? Are you in need of anything?”
Kuzhuk settled back down into his chair from his previous position at the window and started to sift idly through some paperwork. “I am fine,” He called out to the door. As always there came no reply and he could hear nothing in the hall, but Kuzhuk was relatively certain he was alone again. 
Alone except for the laughter echoing in his head. @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast
9 notes · View notes
iggyfingarts · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media
redrawing the boys now that i have a better handle on.. whatever it is i’m doing
Kuzhuk Oro - ARC/BRD Naoh’a Lhizeh - ACN/SCH
4 notes · View notes