thegreatsharkleve
Fools All the Way Down
A multi-character FFXIV rp/media/inspo tumblr.
Asks are open and encouraged, let's be friends!
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FFXIV players who want their WoL to kill the Elementals: "My WoL would be applauded for freeing the Shroud of their evil and their death will fix Gridania's shortcomings, prejudices, and xenophobia."
The actual likely consequences of that scenario:
#character inspo: baiju#He likes the Elementals even if they don't exactly like his whole deal#HAVE WE NOT LEARNED TO LEAVE FOREST SPIRITS ALONE YET IN MEDIA?#The elementals aren't prejudice and xenophobic#the people who “speak for them” in Gridania are
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most relatable episode of malcolm in the middle is when he stops being mean for a week and gets an ulcer
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Thinking out loud...
Skypirate recently ousted from his crew because he's kind of an asshole and has the same predisposition toward loyalty as a stray getting scraps all across town. Grand Company Deserter...
Incredibly flexible morality for the right price (will dispose of a body, no problem), gambling problem, propensity for knives, guns, and explosions. Lazy, petty, arrogant. Weirdly charismatic??? A flavour of small mouthy guy who is capable of excellent work if he can be reigned in and kept on task (spite based motivation works if you can't get store bought...)
A bad person but like, fun about it!
I am once again tempted to make a trashcat miqo'te character hnnnggg my daily catboy struggles
#felix rvb coded#reno ff7 vibes#maybe a dash of gambit energy#Just sleazy enough that you would hesitate inviting him to your actual house on grindr#ooc ramblings#WE'LL SEE IF I AM STILL INTERESTED IN THE MORNING I GUESS
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I am once again tempted to make a trashcat miqo'te character hnnnggg my daily catboy struggles
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i love making characters because it’s so often like I’m going to give you bits and pieces of myself. like my love of the color yellow. and the religious trauma
#me with almost every man I make#You are short and full of issues sorry not sorry#You fear nothing more than the mortifying ordeal of being known and being a burden to friends with problems#no I don't know what you're talking about this isn't a regularly recurring trait haha wild where would you get that idea
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one thing I like to do in FFXIV RP is just have my character be completely wrong about elements of setting or plot. like the Warrior of Light? killed dozens of gods, stormed a castrum, made peace with the dragons? no way that's a real person. nobody can even agree what they look like! probably a propaganda story cooked up by that shady Sharlayan secret society, the Children of the Seventh Sun or whatever they're called. the Eorzeans probably have a horrible secret weapon they don't want anyone to know about, so they invented a made up monster slaying hero. occam's razor.
it's a plot point that not everyone can see moogles, so for a while I had her think moogles definitely aren't real either. I mean, she's never seen one. it's just regular people that deliver the post. the whimsical flying bat-winged rats are made up for children...
#I love approaching worldbuilding in this way especially for shared media#Elijah DOES believe the WoL exists and he thinks they are an ASSHOLE#He hates the City States as oppressive ineffective constructs and the WoL is absolutely a tool (or a fool) in service of them#He has caught heat for trying to publish articles outlining why the WoL and their associates have caused real sociopolitical issues#Basically J Jonah Jameson-ing the WoL but with more of a Newman vs Seinfeld vibe#He's softened MARGINALLY on it since the liberation of Ala Mhigo but he still grumbles#character inspo: elijah
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fundamentally i am a petty and mean-spirited person who is also a chill, laidback guy. basically everything is cool with me except for the fact i am irritable and hold grudges. so i’m kind of a weird standoffish dude but yeah i think i’m pretty approachable and friendly
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FUCK IT GONNA DO MY OTHER CHARACTERS TOO
UNDER THE CUT.. because it's long :'D
5 Character Associations: Elijah Post
EMOTIONS/FEELINGS
Empathy
Skepticism
Judgement
Dedication
Depression (baybeeeee!)
COLOURS
Metallic Purple
Dandelion Yellow
Cheeto Orange
Turquoise
Burnt Sienna
SCENTS
Tobacco smoke
Cloves
Ink
Cumin
Whiskey
OBJECTS
Old silver cigarette tin
Notebook
Very small nub of a pencil
Newsprint clippings [in drawers and stacks and tacked to walls]
Sunglasses
BODY LANGUAGE
Elbow on table, chin in palm
Fingergun and wink combo
Open, lazy posture [in public, at least]
Emphatic hand gestures to illustrate his points
Finger tapping
AESTHETICS
Like he fell through a thrift store stocked entirely by wardrobe cast offs of the 1980s Magnum PI
Bad to Look At
Pepe Silva Wall
Like he's competing for the Worst Dressed Homosexual award
Hot Mess
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5 Character Associations: Larkspur Atoel
EMOTIONS/FEELINGS
Restless Energy
Confusion
Pride
Enthusiasm
Trust [overly so, one might say]
COLOURS
Shades of Gray
Warm Black
Vibrant Red
Lime Green
Navy Blue
SCENTS
Ocean Air
Weapon Oil
Sunshine baked into clothing
Sweat
Warm Leather
OBJECTS
Big ol' Axe [does it need to be that big?]
Bandages wrapped around knuckles
Clunky Leather Boots
A third-hand fishing rod [it's a loaner]
Hand-me-down Katana
BODY LANGUAGE
Rolling Shoulders
Cracking Knuckles
Laughter
Easy, Wide Grin
Fidgeting [with anything in reach]
AESTHETICS
Street Fashion
Yankī
1980s Punk
"Dudes Rock"
Black Eyes and Bloody Noses
[MULTIPLE CHARACTERS in Reblog]
5 Character Associations: Baiju Kha
EMOTIONS/FEELINGS
1. Curiousity
2. Compassion
3. Regret
4. Love
5. Determination
COLOURS
1. Blue
2. Black
3. Red
4. White
5. Green
SCENTS
1. Wildflowers
2. Freshly Crushed Herbs
3. Medicinal Reagents
4. Black Teas
5. Soil
OBJECTS
1. Leather Satchel [overly full]
2. Bundles of harvested herbs [freshly cut]
3. Botany Knife [well tended]
4. Flowers [in his bag, his home, his hair]
5. Tinctures of Healing Salves [stingy!]
BODY LANGUAGE
1. Fingers twitching with the urge to Sign
2. Head tipping in interest/acknowledgement
3. Tapping his chin with his finger in thought
4. Various Smiles for all occasions
5. Rubbing the center of his chest, below the clavical
AESTHETICS
1. Cottagecore [??]
2. Medicine Person Living in a Shack [it's a vibe but also a descriptor]
3. Azim Steppes/Othardian
4. An Overgrown Greenhouse
5. The Night Sky
Tagged by: @raeldelacroix
Tagging: Whoever wants to do the thing (if you do I wanna see it!)
#character meme#I ADDED THE REST OF THEM#Elijah Post#Larkspur Atoel#I might add in my Elezen lad Pheaux in later reblogs we'll see
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[MULTIPLE CHARACTERS in Reblog]
5 Character Associations: Baiju Kha
EMOTIONS/FEELINGS
1. Curiousity
2. Compassion
3. Regret
4. Love
5. Determination
COLOURS
1. Blue
2. Black
3. Red
4. White
5. Green
SCENTS
1. Wildflowers
2. Freshly Crushed Herbs
3. Medicinal Reagents
4. Black Teas
5. Soil
OBJECTS
1. Leather Satchel [overly full]
2. Bundles of harvested herbs [freshly cut]
3. Botany Knife [well tended]
4. Flowers [in his bag, his home, his hair]
5. Tinctures of Healing Salves [stingy!]
BODY LANGUAGE
1. Fingers twitching with the urge to Sign
2. Head tipping in interest/acknowledgement
3. Tapping his chin with his finger in thought
4. Various Smiles for all occasions
5. Rubbing the center of his chest, below the clavical
AESTHETICS
1. Cottagecore [??]
2. Medicine Person Living in a Shack [it's a vibe but also a descriptor]
3. Azim Steppes/Othardian
4. An Overgrown Greenhouse
5. The Night Sky
Tagged by: @raeldelacroix
Tagging: Whoever wants to do the thing (if you do I wanna see it!)
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ATTENTION ARTISTS OF TUMBLR
since tumblr is going to start scraping blogs to train ai be sure to glaze and nightshade your art!! Not only will both of these programs protect your art from being copied but nightshade also poisons any ai that tries to steal it
here is some more info on these tools and where you can download them:
Nightshade: Protecting Copyright (uchicago.edu)
Nightshade: Downloads (uchicago.edu)
Glaze - What is Glaze (uchicago.edu)
Glaze - Downloads (uchicago.edu)
#non ffxiv things#IMPORTANT FOR ARTISTS#Also go into your settings and make sure you have the DO NOT AI toggle turned on
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Dreams
He used to believe he dreamt of the night sky.
Es always says — said, before — that it was strange how often he had the same dream, that it hardly ever changed into anything more in the cycles after his injury but Baiju never questioned it. Not even when he had been so very small and knew the darkness to be something that went on and on in a way his young mind could only abstract into forever. Not years later when he woke to pangs in his chest where he’d only felt hollowed out ever since, in that space he imagined the Dusk Mother had cupped her hands and scooped out the gift she’d once given, leaving a dull ache that came and went as a reminder (as a warning).
He’d seen the same darkness in between the stars and felt at ease in it. It felt important.
The shaman agreed. He said, this is how she keeps you, wrapped in a mother’s embrace as she teaches lessons that may seem cruel. It is so you will be able to endure, so you will not despair. Trust in her, and Baiju did.
Each night when he closed his eyes its vastness engulfed him, no matter where he laid his head – just as it had in the cradle of the steppes. In his most fitful sleep, struck silent and bereft as he had been those days, it was an assurance to a child who was already so other amidst his tribe that he was not abandoned. A manifestation of her grace in absence – in the emptiness of the night sky in his dreams (in his chest). And, maybe more so when the dreams were all he had of who he was, of his faith, as he crossed the land with what little he’d carried from that night his home. Set on the Dusk Mother’s path with naught but a promise that she saw him even when he wandered under increasingly unknown stars.
It wasn’t until he crossed to Kugane that he reconsidered this constant.
It had been the first time he’d ever seen waters like that, leaned over the ship’s rail watching the light of the moon break and scatter on the waves; and, the Kha felt that perhaps — perhaps – he dreamt of the ocean too. Dark and deep and as impossible as the night sky, it’s inky depths refracting glimmers of light like stars. The darkness below just as endless as the one above him. It felt familiar. Nostalgic in a way he could only ascribe to things that never were, to his dreams. To the sense memory of solid ground he could not see but knew existed beneath his feet, the ghost of structures made indistinct in shadow, impressions illuminated only by the distant glow of constellations he could not reach.
The sailors said, we use the stars to guide us when we cannot see aught else, to find our way to where we’re meant to be, to return us home, and Baiju thought, I am the same as you.
Awake he followed the path she set before him, drawing his own constellations in the points of light he’d gathered up close to his heart: fire reflected on metal parts spread across the floor, unfamiliar letters lit by candle to be repeated by a still clumsy tongue, a welcoming camp, a gunblade’s spark, a nursery’s warm glow, and eyes so so bright he felt alight in them. Touchpoints to find his way.
He hardly noticed, at first, that the stars were fewer now than they had been then, until there were mornings when he thought perhaps — maybe — that there had been none at all.
Moons ago Baiju dreamt of those depths above and below when he’d fallen before the crumbling ruins of Mhach. Succumbing to the current of the place, a moment of unsure footing only to be dragged down deep into the undertow. He’d found himself adrift on waters so still they could be blackened glass, unmarred and unbroken but for his own reflection looking back at him against the empty sky. (Familiar, here and now but before too, before he fell — it felt like home) He’d reached out to draw his fingers through the stillness only to feel the chill pulled up from it into his skin, into his bones. Inevitable, churning into the old hollowed out spot in his chest like waves returned to a tidal pool, ran over into his lungs. The salt burned, his throat drawn tight against the sting of it, black waters bubbling up from within until it poured out from between his lips, until it was all there was left inside him, until…
He’d thought of his brother, then. Of warmth, of light, of laughter (of blood, of flesh twisting, of tears), and ached for what home truly was. For the time before and what he found now. For love that was not contingent on a lesson learned, that didn’t only ever carve out pieces from him. Not a starless night or still waters — that was, had only ever been, emptiness. Loneliness. Longing. There was no grace in that, no comfort to be found in all the places where something no longer was, only a terrible lack.
When he’d woken it had been with a tight chest and light head, though his body was otherwise whole. The taste of copper was gathered on his tongue in a way that suggested he must have bitten it when he passed out. It sat unpleasantly in his mouth through his assurances and apologies, like a manifestation of his embarrassment at once more becoming exactly what he feared he might: a burden.
He’d held it there until he was alone again, until concern had ebbed and company with it. Until he was able to spit the foulness into an empty basin, black waters still fresh in his mind.
In the shadows of the ship’s cabin —
(In the sun spilling through the leaves of great tall trees—
In the bustle of the inn, hidden at the corner of a sleeve—
In his little house, fingers stained green from freshly ground herbs—
Into a trembling palm—)
— the blood had looked black too.
#baiju kha#Just writing a thing reflecting on Faith and self for Baiju#But also plot things finally coming home to roost ho ho ho#ffxiv balmung rp#obligatory baiju writing tag
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