Avalas Blackstone

[Master Prompt List]

01 // Cross 02 // Bolt 03 // Temper 04 // Present {free prompt} 05 // Cutting Corners 06 // Onerous 07 // Pawn 08 // Tepid 09 // Yawn 10 // Channel 11 // {free prompt} 12 // Miss the Boat 13 // Confluence 14 // Attrition 15 // Row 16 // Deiform 17 // Novel 18 // Nameday {free prompt}

cw: blood, violence

Since leaving the Arrzaneth Ossuary as a young adult, Lady Blackstone’s skills and reputation soared to dizzying heights. A master thaumaturge of the Order, a renowned academic in forbidden circles and an up-and-coming tradeswoman in the underworld, it was rare that she actually returned to the sanctuary that nurtured her talents.

One such day could always be counted on, though: the anniversary of the Seventh Umbral Calamity. After the shards of Dalamud fell and the dust settled, the dead fortunate enough to meet their ends in Ul’dah were brought to the Ossuary.

On this solemn day of remembrance, Lady Blackstone always performed the funerary rites on one corpse. This one was a woman about a decade younger than herself, killed violently in the crossfire of an exchange gone poorly in the Pearl Lane. The corpse laid supine atop a stone slab, cool to the touch from its remaining aether being shifted toward umbral ice for preservation. Lady Blackstone’s painted nails traced over the woman’s collarbone, down her sternum and to the open wound just above her belly.

Tragic and avoidable, but the ever grinding gears of Ul’dah cared little for those who got crushed between them.

 “A freezing blizzard to halt corruption,” Lady Blackstone began to recite from the ceremony she memorized as a child and performed regularly through her adulthood. Aether sparked at her fingertips over the corpse’s midsection.

“A raging fire to cleanse the corpse,” she continued. Flames erupted from her outstretched palms and engulfed the corpse with the ferocity of a wildfire.

“A bolt of lightning to expel the sins of mortal life!”

The air within the Ossuary crackled with astrally-charged aether, coalescing into a bolt of lightning that struck the burning corpse. In that instant, flesh and fat and bone was turned into a smoldering pile of ashes.

Lady Blackstone clasped her hands together, tattoos faintly shimmering from the spellwork. “Keep the faith and know that these dweomers in preparation of the dead are equally as efficacious against the living,”  she finished her recitation, bowing her head low in respect for the ash that was once the corpse, the moment, and the auspicious day. The brim of her hat covered her eye and the feather atop it bowed forward just as she did.

“As above, so below.”

back on this bullshit for now i guess

[#ffxivwrite2022 master prompt list] [entries for Avalas Blackstone] 

“My Lady, have you decided what celebration you’d like to have for your nameday? The month of Nald’thal fast approaches. If we’re to top the festivities of last year, we’d best let staff at the Ruby Roost know. There’s costumes, cocktail menus and decorations to be concerned for...”

Avalas didn’t seem to notice when Juliette spoke to her until the dark-haired elezen cleared her throat. The violet-eyed witch, lounging in her bathtub overlooking Vesper Bay, gazed longingly at the sea. The Commodore was due to return soon, and she wanted to be there the second she could spot the sails of the Scarlet Duchess on the horizon.

“My lady,” Juliette repeated. Avalas finally snapped her gaze from the window and rested her arms on the sides of the clawfoot tub.

“I think I may join the Commodore at sea for this nameday, Juliette. Although if the Black Hand wishes to celebrate in my honor, please help them facilitate. Their liege’s nameday should be an evening off, don’t you think?”

Juliette’s brows twitched. She knew the Dreadlord became seasick quite easily. Avalas caught the small twitch of her receptionist’s brow and smirked.

[#ffxivwrite2022 master prompt list] [entries for Avalas Blackstone] 

The library at the Lunaris Estate boasted a vast collection of arcane tomes, literary works, scrolls, archeological catalogs, collections of letters and ledgers and Lady Blackstone’s personal favorite: the steamy romance novel. It always came as a surprise to organization members and guests perusing the library to find that despite the meticulous organization of subjects into sections, the trashy novels were littered throughout the entire collection.

Hardbound novels from authors of note were filed next to the numerous copies of The Yawning Abyss, and it was not uncommon to see a pornographic illustration Frontline Titties of the Flames shelved next to all one hundred and eight volumes of Fundamental Thaumaturgic Principle. Cultural guidebooks for how not to offend even the most conservative of Ishgardian nobles rested right next to Romance in the High Houses: Heroes and Heretics. One particularly tattered copy of a modern-era Coliseum novel, The Gladiator and the Maiden sat next to Aetherological and Leyline Confluences of Eorzea, Vol. 3, The Yafaem Saltmoor. The latter two books were meticulously noted with tabs, folded pages and underlines.