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tarnishedxknight · 6 hours

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Gabranth silently cursed his poor luck that he was placed in charge of someone who wanted to get to know him on a personal level. It could result in him becoming compromised if this sorceress was in any way trying to deceive the emperor. "I am the head of the Imperial Bureau of Intelligence, and as such, I need to be very careful with what information is given to whom and when," he said, hoping that would help to explain his distant affect.

And yet, Gramis was depending on him to keep this sorceress not only protected, but happy as well. If she wanted to get to know him better, then he had to adhere to her wants and wishes as best he could. "However, I shall try to be as forthcoming with my answer as you wish." As his bad luck would have it, she began to ask him where he was from, which was always a sore subject for him. "I am. My mother was born in Archadia," he replied, simply settling for saying he was from Ivalice and had an Archadian mother, and not that he began life in Landis with a Landisian father. Perhaps it was a selective way of presenting himself, but... he was not Landisian anymore.

When she asked so generally about Ivalice, that was far easier to answer. Ivalice is an expansive region that is home to many races, both hume and non-hume. It is made up of three continents, Ordalia, Valendia, and Kerwon, in addition to Purvama, the Floating Lands, located in the skies above. Archadia is located in Valendia, in the north and east of Ivalice. The Rozarrian Empire, with which we are currently at war, resides in Ordalia, to the west. The Kerwon continent largely consists of mountains and grasslands inhabited by non-hume races. No major hume empire yet exist there. What do you wish to know of it specifically?" he asked, turning to look at her. If she could narrow down what she was interested in, he could better provide her with answers.

"I hope so as well," he said with a respectful nod. "Times are dire. The stability of the region has been thrown into jeopardy. I fear it is the decisions we make now that may well determine the future of the Empire, and of all of Ivalice. I pray you will lend aid to the Empire, but take heed... not all have the best intentions. For now, take your direction from either Emperor Gramis or myself. There are others who would seek to sway you toward their own agendas." He was, of course, thinking of Vayne, but he could not say that. Not aloud. Not here. Anyone could be listening.

“My dear knight, please take off your helm so I may look at you.” (For Noah)

Noah scarcely understood what Emperor Gramis wanted with the sorceress, or why he had invited her to take up residence inside the palace proper. Divination, the stars, seeing into the future... Noah had no need of it. He placed his faith and trust in his own ability and determination. Fate, destiny, and luck... were only illusions. Men forged their own paths in life. No amount of telling him otherwise was going to keep him from working towards the goals he'd set for himself, not even an oracle.

Nevertheless, Gramis believed in her. So much so, in fact, that he had placed her protection and integration into palace life in Gabranth's care. While he was honored to be granted such prestigious duties, he also silently did not want them. Never would he voice that to Gramis, however.

The Mist inside him from his nethicite poisoning stirred noticeably every time he was around her, clearly affected by whatever power it was that she wielded. Wanda was her name. Gabranth had to admit she was beautiful, but that did not matter. He was only there to protect her as she got settled into palace life, to answer her questions, and to arrange for anything she might need for her craft.

Surely she must have known that people did not simply ask a Judge Magister to remove his or her helm. It just was not done. Then again, for someone possessed of power such as hers, Wanda likely thought she could say and do whatever she pleased. Noah grit his teeth a little, displeased with the sudden exposure of his face as he slipped off his helm and held it under his left arm.

"Apologies, Lady Maximoff. Judge Magisters typically wear their helms at all hours," he explained, in case she truly did not know. He had to keep her happy, though, or else whatever Gramis needed her for might suffer. "I meant no offense," he said finally, trying his best to be diplomatic and polite.

#illbringthechaosmagic #alt muse: noah #{ welcome to archadia } ᵐᵘˡᵗⁱᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ᶜʳᵒˢˢᵒᵛᵉʳ #{ the darker corners of ivalice } ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ⁻ ᵈᵃʳᵏ ᵉᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ

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tarnishedxknight · 7 hours

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[ Another Time Another Place A Hollow Universe In Space ]

The Guardians stayed still, all of them alert and ready in case they had to fight off a potential threat. There was a moment of tension - not silence, since the Zune was still playing the song Candy by Cameo - as the doors opened to reveal the one who had been knocking: a man who introduced himself by his name, title and birthplace. Possibly to break the ice. Gamora, Drax and Quill lowered their weapons ever so slightly. Rocket did not.

“Nice to meet you, Captain Basch fon Ronsenburg Knight of Dalmasca.” Quill was the first to speak, visibly trying to remember Basch’s full title. “I’m Captain Star-Lord of Terra. This is Gamora, my girl,” he added, his tone fairly friendly, though not without emphasis. “And this is my team: Rocket, Drax, Mantis and Groot.”

Mantis waved with a calm hand as she held Groot with the other. Rocket studied the stranger with a scoff, his aim unwavering as he remained alert, but eventually lowered his gun as well.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Quill said when Basch pointed out that they had arrived without prior notification. “The ship did the craziest thing and we were forced to land. It was scary as hell. Not like I was scared. I wasn’t.” He was confused when Basch asked where the Guardians came from - what do you mean he wasn’t familiar with the legendary Star-Lord? - but he still answered: “I’m from Missouri.”

“Zen-Whoberi,” Gamora said.

“I hail from the planet of Kylos,” Drax stated solemnly.

“I am Groot.”

Rocket and Mantis didn’t offer an answer, though it was safe to assume Basch was getting the idea that they all had different origins. The Guardians then noticed the guards standing near Basch, and Rocket reached for his gun again, but he paused and dropped his paws to his sides after Mantis patted his head.

“We really mean no harm,” Quill added. “Y'know, we want to help people, so trying to cause harm would be… uh… Shit, I forgot the word.”

“Counterproductive?” Mantis offered.

“Counterproductive!” He clapped once. “Thank you, Mantis. You see, we were flying to A'askavariia to answer a distress call. Next thing we know, our ship’s being swallowed by light. I thought… maybe we flew too close to a star. And then I thought, we’re all going to die. And then I thought, not as long as I’m here! A man’s gotta protect his team. We landed because we had to. Not gonna lie, I knew we could get in trouble, but I wasn’t gonna let the ship crash. Sorry. Again,” Quill babbled, hopefully to let Basch know the Guardians were simply doing their thing until they found themselves in that place. “We didn’t mean to bother you guys.”

(Agreed, it’s best to let them settle on a hospitable place before any drama takes place… if Rocket doesn’t start drama first. Also, MUNOH KINDA LOOKS LIKE A CHANDELURE THAT’S SO CUTE. I do headcanon that Mantis seeing things that “aren’t there” - even though they absolutely are - is a recurring thing on some planets they visit, her abilities let her feel supernatural forces so feel free to have Munoh reach out to her if they suspect she can feel them. Unless they don’t show themself to anyone other than Caelen, in which case ignore ignore ignore.)

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Basch listened attentively as the captain of the ship introduced himself and everyone on his team. He had never heard of anyone named Star-Lord, or of any others in his crew, nor had he heard of Terra or any of the other places each of them mentioned. They must have come from very far away, indeed. Perhaps even from outside of Ivalice. Nevertheless, he would maintain cordiality until given a reason not to. “Well met, all of you,” he said respectfully. Behind him, the guardsmen he’d brought with him looked at each other in confusion, not recognizing any of the names that had been given either.

Sky pirates, most likely. That was Basch’s first impression. Many of them stole basic models of ships and altered them to suit their purposes. Some added storage or aesthetics, others added weapons or the ability to fly faster, and still others upgraded the hydraulics to allow for greater maneuverability. Judging by the look of this odd ship, they had done quite a bit of work on it. He peered at it as Star-Lord explained how they came to dock there illegally, and it was much as Basch had supposed. Distress with their ship had forced them to make an emergency landing. As illegal as it was, their arrival appeared to be nothing more than an unfortunate circumstance. And if it was true that this occurred in the process of answering a distress call, then perhaps they were not the sort of sky pirates to engage in shady activity.

“Very well,” Basch said upon hearing the entirety of their explanation. “However, you are not permitted entry to the palace unescorted. You may either wait here on your ship while we attempt to repair it, or I will escort you through the palace and into the city proper. When you wish to return to your ship, simply approach the palace entrance, ask for me, and I shall escort you back.” He wasn’t sure they could repair this ship, or even figure out what might be wrong with it, if anything was, but the more they made sure it was functioning properly, the better chance that it would not damage the dock or any surrounding structures when it departed.

He moved about a bit on the dock, looking at the ship from as many sides as he could see. Did it... not have any glossair rings? None were visible. Maybe they were located at the far end, obscured from his sight. The turbulence Star-Lord described, though... he wondered if inconsistent air buoyancy was the problem. “Has your ship’s skystone been depleted or become unstable, Captain? he asked.

{ So just to explain a bit... Airships in FFXII are powered by and held in the air by skystones, which are pieces of a naturally-growing, magical ore called magicite, and that’s a gravity-defying crystalline mineral. Magicite is mined, cut into stones, and those stones help keep airships in the air. A small ship might have one stone the size of a fist, whereas a massive ship will have one far larger. The glossair rings are literally revolving rings, usually at the bottom, back, or sides of a ship that are literally called that because the magic that keeps them spinning distorts the air and makes it look glossy.

The rings help disperse the magic that keeps the ship in the air to where it needs to be. You can see here on the ship the Ifrit, some of the glossair rings are circled. And here’s more of a side view of the same ship, where you can see that there are several sets of small rings. Larger ships will either have those, or only a few massive rings, such as in the Bahamut’s design. It all depends upon the size, design, and maneuverability of a ship how many rings they have, what size, and what the placement is. Essentially what Basch is asking is if their skystone has been too much depleted of magic and might need to be replaced or recharged, which will affect the ship’s ability to stay in the air. Obviously, the Guardians’ ship has no skystone or glossair rings, heh, but in Basch’s world, ships don’t fly without them, so he really has no clue. XD

Also HAHA they do look like a chandelier, omg. And oh, that’s an interesting idea. Since this is before the events of the main game, maybe Caelen is still in Dalmasca. But even if he’s not, Munoh can be their own muse separate of Caelen, so they could just be hanging out in the palace or the city and think they’re invisible, checking out the Guardians because maybe they can sense they’re not from this world... and then Mantis seems to be looking right at them. Munoh would be like..... hmmmm, this one is perceptive. XD I’m all for it if you want me to bug your girl at some point, no pun intended. }

#main muse: basch #{ knight of the order } ᵖʳᵒˡᵒᵍᵘᵉ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ #{ another time another place a hollow universe in space }

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tarnishedxknight · 7 hours

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“i’m so afraid i sealed my fate.”

{for Munoh? Someone needs to play The Prophecy, the song this quote is from, for Thor because she WOULD ugly cry over it, it’s so her}

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Munoh had been watching this particular hume for some time. She seemed very spirited, very driven... and yet, so unsure. Like many humes, she felt trapped by her situation and by those around her. Munoh didn’t understand why humes couldn’t see the infinite choices and possibilities of life, but rather chose to adhere most often to a linear path, even when it was a path they intensely disliked. Hearing her words, Munoh made the choice to help this hume, if they could. Slowly before her, a few feet away, the Occuria’s wispy, transparent, glowing form became visible to Thor.

“Fear not, Princess of Asgard. Many and varied are the paths you yet could choose. You have but to decide which you desire, and aid most powerful shall I grant you in pursuit of its realization.” Munoh’s voice sounded like a blending of two of three, all speaking at once, and yet it was calm and gentle. “I am Munoh, an Occurian. Long and with great interest have I watched you, Thor.”

#oc muse: munoh #submission

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tarnishedxknight · 8 hours

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Based on the muse music post, I think Drace and/or Gabranth would like Who’s Afraid of Little Old Me? from the most recent Taylor Swift album! I also could see Ashe liking Cassandra and Basch liking The Prophecy. Those are just my opinions though :)

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{out of dalmasca} So... I realize this is an unpopular opinion, heh, but I’m just not a Talyor Swift fan at all. Nothing against her, it’s just not my kind of music. So I’m not familiar with any of her songs. Having said that, if you think these songs fit my muses, I’ll give them a listen. I don’t want to do it right this minute, though, because songs for me are like chips, you can’t have just one, haha. Every time I get on the Tube to listen to music, I end up falling down a two-hour rabbit hole of music, shorts, and funny cat videos, lol, and I really need to get writing done right now. But I will when I get a chance. =)

#{ out of dalmasca } ᵒᵒᶜ #submission

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tarnishedxknight · 8 hours

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Just the fact that Gabranth was not telling Gylfie to leave him be, to back up, to not speak to him as though he were feeble, or any of his other usual defensive ways of pushing people away when he was not okay... meant that... he was not okay. And that he was a level of not okay that was more than just a slight jarring or startling. His eyes were looking between Gylfie and Drace, but his mind was elsewhere. His brow furrowed as his gaze settled on Gylfie, as he attempted to breathe with her as she asked, his mind running on autopilot with regard to responses while it sifted through the terrible memories of the last time he saw Drace's face.

He was able to keep time with her, but each of his breaths came out in ragged, tremulous messes rather than steady exhales. His heart was thudding up into his ears. But then, he blinked - almost more of a hard flinch than a blink - and his head shook slightly as he swallowed hard. Snapping back to himself, Noah started doing what he always did so well and had been doing for years... compartmentalizing. He didn't want to break down here, didn't want to have this kind of conversation out in the open where the Avengers, or worse, the Dalmascans, would hear it. And so he picked himself up and forced himself to walk.

The wall caught one of his stumbles, and Gylfie another. For a moment, a brief yet solid moment, his hand found her forearm as he staggered, but he let go just as quickly. "Forgive me..." he rasped. Gabranth... apologized to no one. No one. Except to those he loved. To all others, his behavior was his own and he would never apologize for any of it. But to those he cared for most, he respected enough to take their feelings into account. Gylfie was not keen on being touched, much as he was not either, and so he apologized for grabbing her arm in his desperation to remain standing.

Drace could only follow, wondering at what had addled Gabranth's mind so. She hadn't seen him in this poor of a state since... well, since the night Amoretta Solidor met her just end. It bothered her that, whatever had rattled Gabranth so, it apparently had something to do with her? What on earth could it be? She only wanted to help him, to fix this, but... without knowing what was going on, there was nothing she could do.

But oh, she was proud of Gylfie for the way she was handling him. Over the years, the three of them had all taught each other much about recognizing and handling trauma, and Drace could see that Gylfie had been paying close attention all that time. Even if feeling rather at a loss of how to help Gabranth in this situation, she was glad that Gylfie seemed to have things as much under control as they could be. And yet... it was there around her eyes and in her movements that something was not quite right with Gylfie either. What had gotten into the two of them?

Once they were all inside Gabranth's room, Drace let more of her concern for him show in her expression. As Gylfie began to explain, Drace was infinitely grateful that someone was attempting to explain to her what was going on, but the explanation spawned more questions in her mind than it left her of answers. Espers? Magic? The Occuria? Had there been more at play in Ivalice than she'd been keeping track of? More players in the game than she ever thought possible? She couldn't recall that anything significant had happened when she'd been wrenched from their world. She'd simply been on her way to the throne room, responding to word that Emperor Gramis had been found dead at the hands of a member of the Senate...

"I see," Drace said, willing to let the explanations of how they all got to this wretched time period rest there for now in favor of tending to Gabranth. His distress was a far more pressing matter. All her other questions, worried, and confusions could wait until after he'd been stabilized.

Gabranth could barely breathe. As he hung his head and gasped for air, he began to feel it again... that sensation of death in his right hand. The way the feel of flesh parting and blade grazing bone had resonated through his hand and up into his arm, even though he'd been wearing armor at the time. How many had he killed during his military career? More than he could count. And never had it felt like this. Never had it felt as it did when he'd plunged his dagger into someone he loved.

His eyes opened and he looked at his right hand, opening and closing it slowly a few times before tightening it into a fist until his knuckles turned white. It still didn't banish the sensation. His fist trembled for a few seconds until he lowered his head into his hands once again. He had to get a hold of himself. This was not how a Judge Magister behaved, nor a seasoned soldier. But in this moment of intense stress and anxiety, Gabranth realized that he'd never properly grieved for Drace.

He'd gone from killing her to deploying back out into the world to continue a war he never wanted. It had been easy to set aside his grief in favor of paying attention to more important things. But here in this place, his sanity hung by a thread. Taken from his world and his son, denied work, and labeled as physically and mentally feeble, all Gabranth had now was time and his own thoughts. Even then, he'd been able to shove aside the grief that threatened to destroy him, often in the gym, but... seeing her face again... Hearing her voice... It had sent him over the edge.

Hearing Gylfie's offer of being the one to tell Drace what had happened to her, Gabranth's first inclination was to push back and say he could do it himself. Because he should. And he could. Of course he could. He was stronger than this, he could do it, he-... His eyes met Drace's for a moment before a guilty, heartbreaking furrow appeared in his brow and he averted his gaze. He could not.

Drace was stunned by this. Why had he looked at her that way? And why could he tell her? And... tell her what? She slowly approached, crouching near where Gabranth sat. First her hand reached out to lay over one of his, letting him know she was coming, and then it moved up to lay against the side of his neck, her thumb over his jawline. "When has there ever been anything that you could not tell me?" she said softly.

"This is different," Gabranth answered, his bottom lip trembling. "It is... very different." Quite suddenly, he reached up to take her hand, enveloping it in both of his. His eyes closed and he lifted her hand to his lips, pressing them against her knuckles, as if to keep hold some part of close, lest she disappear again."

Drace watched him do this, letting him do with her hand what he needed, sadness washing over her expressing. "Perhaps you had better tell me, then, Ynarra," she whispered.

Drace's eyes narrowed, not in anger but as if to in some way focus her hearing on what Gylfie had said with the simple narrowing of her gaze. It escaped her, however. She couldn't understand why Gylfie would be so unnerved to see her, and when Gabranth arrived, she was even more perplexed to see that he was just as unsettled. Perhaps even more so than Gylfie.

Despite everything going on in her life, having only just been transferred to this... well, whatever it was, training facility? Military housing unit? Both? Yes, well, even having just been brought here, her focus was on those she would call family, those she cared more for, namely Gabranth and Gylfie. To hell with the Dalmascans for the moment, Drace wanted to know why her unique little family unit was behaving so strangely in her presence. Most importantly, she wanted to help Gabranth get control of himself, for he seemed on the verge of another one of his very potent episodes, and that was never something safe for him to endure out in public.

Once the Dalmascans were finally driven off and there was merciful privacy and silence, Drace went to work on steadying Noah. She was happy - nay, proud - that Gylfie was striving to do the same, despite that Drace could tell the young woman was also on the verge of faltering. Seeing Gabranth snap back into clarity for just a moment and able to push himself for the time being gave Drace hope that she might yet contain this emotional incident and spare both Gylfie and Gabranth's dignity. Whatever her own concerns were at the moment, her own unsettling feelings were shoved aside in favor of performing damage control for them.

Drace was content to let Gylfie go to Gabranth's side and steady him as they walked to his quarters. For her part, Drace walked on ahead, stopping to look back every few steps to make sure things were proceeding about as well as they could. Gabranth stopped once or twice, catching his breath, but for the most part he powered through his own panic as well as she had ever seen him do in devastating moments. She just wasn't sure what had been so devastating about seeing her again.

Noah had to stop whenever the hallway seemed to be closing in on him or spiraling out of control. Once he was forced to reach out his arm to Gylfie or he might have stumbled into a nearby wall, but soon they were inside his room and he could sit down heavily on the end of his bed. Still breathing hard, he looked up at Drace as she closed the door, telling himself again and again that she was real. He didn't understand how or why or for how long, but she was here, now. The evil of that moment when he'd driven his dagger into her heart had somehow been undone.

"How is this possible...?" he rasped, his shoulders trembling and his teeth chattering even though it wasn't cold. Seeing her again had just been such a shock to his system that everything seemed to be overloaded and strained.

"How is what possible?" Drace asked, looking between him and Gylfie. "What has happened to you both? What has happened to us all, that we should be taken to this dreadful time period?" They both looked so miserable. There must be more to this than she was understanding. "Pray tell me why you both look upon me with such distress..." she said, her voice much softer now. There was a slight quiver in it. Did she want to know the answer?

Tears flooded Gabranth's eyes and he hung his head. She did not know... and the task of informing her felt almost like killing her all over again. Such a sad and defeated wrinkle formed in his brow. His evil has been erased, by some miracle he hadn't deserved. Couldn't he just let that stand? Did he have to make it real again by speaking of it?"

#disillusionedjudge #tw: panic attack #tw: trauma #alt muse: noah #{ unwilling avenger } ᵐᶜᵘ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ #alt muse: drace #{ imperial avenger } ᵐᶜᵘ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ

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tarnishedxknight · 9 hours

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Ashelia's heart sank the moment she heard that skystones wouldn't function properly in Jagd. "They-... Oh. I see," she said, her energy taken so far down once again. "I was not aware..." And if she was not aware of that, her mind now began to wander with what else she might not be aware of. Perhaps Everren was right and this was not the best or wisest course of action to take. But there seemed to be little other choice at this point, and she simply could not bear to sit idly and safely while Archadians occupied her native sands and the future of Dalmasca hung in the balance.

The more Ifs and Maybes and Buts that Everren heaped upon Ashelia's plan to get back out there in the world and fight to secure a future for Dalmasca, the lower and lower her heart sank. It was almost tangible, almost real, the pain in her heart, gripping her chest in its vice. It had become difficult to breathe out of her nose, and so her mouth opened, her breath becoming audible. This has to work, she has to do this! Somehow! But... how?

She looked to Everren as the woman said she was not satisfied with gil alone. It wasn't something she had expected a sky pirate to say, but... then again, how many of them had she met in her life? Only Everren, Balthier, and Fran. "That is to your great credit, then," Ashe said, and although she sounded very dejected, she'd meant the sentiment nonetheless. "What else would satisfy you, then? Is there something else I could offer you?" There were some things she was sure she wasn't willing to give, but she could still at least hear her out...

But then Ashe jumped and inhaled sharply to hear her uncle's voice, only to then relax and turn bright red to realize it was only Balthier playing games with that little device of his. Her eyes then rested on Basch, whom she hadn't even realized was there. How long had he been standing there? How much had he heard? "Basch..." she said, but she couldn't think of what to say to persuade him.

Before she could find the words, Balthier's own words of leaving her with her uncle sent Ashelia flying into sudden desperation. "You can't!" she exclaimed as tears threatened even more to turn her into the crying child everyone here seemed to think she was.

Seeing this was quite possibly about to boil over in some way, Basch broke his silence. “Better that you be kept safe, Highness,” Basch said. “Dalmasca cannot afford to lose you.”

Ashelia huffed in frustration. “I have been safe for long enough, rested long enough, and I have hidden at home like a coward long enough! I need to do this, Basch. For Dalmasca and for myself,” she insisted. “Please…”

“Princess…” he said gently as he slowly came to stand nearer to her. “I understand the urgency you feel. I, too, am rendered restless by it. But should anything happen to you, you would be no good to your people dead. Accepting safe harbor here is not cowardice, but prudence. With you kept safe, others will be able to-”

"Others?" Ashe sighed and shook her head, defeated, and yet a moment later her fire had returned for one more try. “All around me, people repeatedly say that I am too young, too inexperienced, too naïve, too ignorant… Well, how am I to rectify any of those things if I am constantly to be kept out of the fight?! Let others handle it. Is that what you were going to say? How am I to ever know better and to know what is plausible and realistic when formulating a plan if you never let me try?! If I require aid, then aid me. If I am wrong, then correct me. That is how we learn, is it not? Or am I to be kept a sheltered, protected child forever?! Does Dalmasca not deserve better than that?!”

She swallowed hard, trying desperately not to let the tears that had welled up in her eyes fall down her cheeks. “Please… If you say that I am too innocent of the world, that I don’t know how to do this, then teach me. Teach me as you always have. If what you say is true and you… you are still the man I knew two years past… that you did not murder my father… then stand with me. Help me. Please. Perhaps I do need help in this. So come with me. I… I need you.”

Basch’s gaze lowered, partly because he couldn’t stomach the way she was begging him to serve her, as if there was anything else in this world his heart wanted to do more. But it lowered also because she was thinking with her heart instead of her mind… and almost convincing him to do the same. He listened a bit to the other conversation going on nearby, wondering if Everren really could convince Balthier and Fran to join them. With all of them as well, perhaps there was a chance. He sighed and raised his gaze to Ashe’s rather formally. “Where you go, Highness, I will follow,” he vowed.

“Thank you,” she said with true gratitude, though she knew Basch was not the only person here that she had to convince. Ashe steeled herself and looked to Balthier as the man seemed intent on simply walking away, on leaving her behind. "Suppose you stole me instead," she called to him. Seeing Balthier's expression, Ashe pressed on. "You're a sky pirate, aren't you? Then steal me, is that so much to ask?"

As Everren began casually throwing out ways in which she would very likely fall far short of being able to successfully pilot the Strahl, however veiled they may have been, Ashelia sighed again, this time even more dejectedly. She simply could not think about the what-ifs. They would scare her, discourage her, hold her back... and she needed to be firm and determined if she was going to get anything done. Throwing the ship into a roll... did not sound good at all, though. "I shall try," was all Ashelia said, mostly because she really didn't have a better response.

When asked where the Dawn Shard was, Ashelia did not want to say. Everren's reasons for wanting to know where valid ones, though, and if there was some problem with the ship not being able to make the journey, Ashe supposed she may as well know now, before she attempted to fly it. "It is in the ancient tomb of the first Dynast King, Raithwall, west of the Nam-Yensa Sandsea, in the Valley of the Dead," she relented, prepared to hear Everren's objections, which she was certain were coming.

Truth be told, Everren spoke a surprising amount of wisdom to her as she laid out the potential consequences of both making off with the Strahl and remaining where they were with Marquis Ondore. Ashe began to feel a bit prickly, the very familiar feeling of panic setting in as she realized that her situation was growing dimmer and more perilous by the minute. "Uncle would... he'd... he would never do such things..." she argued back utterly unconvincingly, both the tremble in her weak voice and the sad distress in her gaze giving away that she knew the position Ondore would be placed in... and what he would ultimately decide. "I-I..." she said, losing her resolve and feeling defeated once again.

She was right. Horribly, perfectly, irrefutably right. This was not a journey Ashe could make herself, not by any stretch of the imagination. And she could not very well ask Balthier, Fran, or even Everren herself to aid her on a wing and a prayer of someday being paid with gil and treasure as of yet not even in Ashe's possession. She could not blame them for wanting more assurance than that, though she may not understand living one's life for wealth and adventure instead of for family and country.

The sting of tears was in her eyes again, and she hated that she was about to cry so childishly. She just loved Dalmasca so much and was trying so hard to help her, to free her from Archadia's clutches... "If you all will help me to free Dalmasca and reclaim the throne, I will make good on my promise of payment. Is my word not enough? If my word cannot be believed, then what sort of future queen would I be? I have no reason to be deceitful," she said, even as the irony of her sitting in the pilot's seat of an airship that did not belong to her as she was attempting to steal it being lost on her entirely.

Basch... was a very light sleeper, for a number of reasons. He'd been trying to rest a bit - he was still so weak from his imprisonment, but trying his best nonetheless - when he'd heard shuffling around him. Given their situation, he was not about to assume it was benign. Upon investigation, he'd realized Ashelia had wandered away.

If for no other purpose than to make certain she was safe, he'd followed her... to the Strahl. Basch's heart sank, for he knew how painful it must be for Ashelia to have to sit and wait in relative comfort while Dalmasca was under Archadian occupation. But to go so far as to steal an airship from a sky pirate... Clearly, she was desperate, but this was nothing he did not already know. He'd seen the desperation and heartbreak in her eyes when Marquis Ondore ordered her to stay put, and it had hurt him too. Her pain was his as well.

Reaching the Strahl, he saw that Everren was already attempting to talk Ashelia down. Rather than interrupt that process, Basch merely crossed his arms and leaned against the entrance to the ship's cabin, listening carefully. If she was truly going to leave, bound for the Tomb of Raithwall, he would of course follow. It was his duty to protect and aid her, owed to both her and her father, but also his heart would allow no less. But he did agree with Everren. If done at all, this needed to be thought through a lot more carefully...

#disillusionedjudge #side muse: ashelia #{ for dalmasca } ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ #{ the darker corners of ivalice } ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ⁻ ᵈᵃʳᵏ ᵉᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ

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tarnishedxknight · 11 hours

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"Oh!" Ashelia blurted out when she was unexpected grabbed and yanked off the bench to join the others. She did her best to pay attention, even if she thought it was a bit ludicrous to be playing while there was a war raging and she had very important things she needed to attend to. Not that she was making good progress on those things at all, but even so.

She lifted her skirts slightly to get a better look at her delicate slippers. They... didn't look like they were meant for kicking balls with her feet. But as one of the boys explain that she was to kick the ball with the insides of her feet, she turned her foot and tried to make the motion, by way of practice. "N-no, I certainly do not want broken toes," she said, suddenly feeling very shy. Unbeknownst to Ashelia, socialization skills were something she never really developed. Not with children, anyway. She'd socialized with guards, soldiers, knights, generals, servants, sages, mages, and even accountants in the palace, but children? Never.

"I'm Ashe," she said with a little smile. The boy's comment about airships was no doubt meant to be a dig about "backwards" nations that didn't have creature comforts. The problem wasn't Dalmasca, Ashe thought, it was her father. "My homeland has airships. And sports as well. It is only that I was never permitted to play them." Now that she said that out loud, she realized just how sheltered she sounded.

Ashe's mind was elsewhere, and the distraction was where she wanted to stay, mired in all that she had to do and say and keep track of, lest she forget it. However, it was clear to her that Larsa was not going to give up until she had played at least for a little while, and so she relented. "I suppose I can try," she said, bunching up her skirts and holding them aside with one hand so she didn't trip, fall, and possibly break her nose in addition to her toes...

Princess, Interrupted || closed with tarnishedxjudgement

@tarnishedxjudgement

“Because… if you are going to sell me to the enemy, then you should at least grant me the comfort of a friend whilst I’m there, father,” Ashelia said firmly, staring the old king down.

“Ashelia… Sir Ronsenburg is needed here and at war’s front,” Raminas said wearily. He was already dealing with immense guilt over the arrangement for his daughter to be held in Archadia’s capital to ensure Dalmascan loyalty, and Ashe’s resistance to it was not helping.

#tarnishedxjudgement #side muse: ashelia #{ the darker corners of ivalice } ᵐᵃⁱⁿ ᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ⁻ ᵈᵃʳᵏ ᵉᵈⁱᵗⁱᵒⁿ

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tarnishedxknight · 11 hours

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Leah's conviction about their relationship, her faith in him, and the way she saw him really blew Noah away. Never would he have described himself with the words "selfless," "or "kind," or "prince charming," and yet somehow Leah found it in her to see him in that way. It was impossible for him to understand, and he had argued numerous times to the contrary, but nothing seemed to move her from her convictions.

"I was not quick at all. Or have you forgotten how many days you prodded me to speak to you before I opened up in any capacity?" he asked with a smile. "Making you feel safe was only fair after you had done the same for me. If not for you, there is not telling how long I would have wandered this strange time alone before I found any assistance."

He shook his head after she kissed him. "No, there are no parts of you I would not want, for then you would not be you. You are the culmination of all that has brought you here to this point. I would not change anything about you. And never will you be too much for me." His hand lifted to her cheek, moving back to run his fingers through her hair. "And I, you, Leah," he whispered.

Noah nodded in acceptance of her wish that he not seek out the men who has treated her so poorly and left her with lasting fear and trauma. "But if you should ever change your mind, or if ever someone else should bother you that you do wish me to take care of for you, simply say the words. Alright? Until then, I will honor your wish and let it go."

❛ i have scars on my hands from touching certain people ❜ (Leah to Noah; @mxrvelouscreations

@mxrvelouscreations

"Have I added to those scars...?" Noah asked, for no one surely must have been as sharp to the touch as he. Sometimes he worried that, even as much as he loved Leah, he was adding to her troubles and harming her mental health. He was a lot to handle, a damaged man, and at times a cornered dog ready to bite hands that reached for him. Leah had found a way to calm him, and he felt comfortable and safe with her, but... what if he was bad for her? What if she didn't even realize it?

"Being with me is hard, I know..." he said suddenly, the tremble in his unusually soft voice revealing his worry as well as his guilt. If Leah ever wanted to leave him, he of course would not stand in her way, though he'd be left shattered by the loss. Would that be best for her? To be free of him? "Do you ever regret letting me into your life?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to know the answer.

#mxrvelouscreations #alt muse: noah #noah x leah #{ what madness is this? } ᵐᵘˡᵗⁱᵛᵉʳˢᵉ ᶜʳᵒˢˢᵒᵛᵉʳ

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