Of the Fury's Will

But hey let’s get a dysfunctional neural network to flag all the NSFW on the site - except it’s flagging a bunch of SFW stuff in the mess and not doing a good job at all.

Hands clasped tighter around the mug of hot coffee, lavender eyes fixated on the brown liquid and how, surprisingly, the simplest thing hadn’t changed in all these years. Her companion, a perky young miqo’te known as SIl, hung on to her every word. Ears had pinned back against his head at the sudden silence between them, anxiety and confusion written plainly on his features when the story had stopped.

“Afina? It’s okay if you’re done talking. Really, it is!” He chimed in attempt to sound chipper as ever.

“Oh? Ah, sorry about that Sil. I just needed a moment to gather my thoughts. It’s hard to recall exactly what had happened, but it was something like this--”

“Don’t let them escape! Sephirot-Egi!” 

Arm outstretched as she shouted as loud as possible, hopes that her voice would carry over the crowds to her allies. Perched upon the re-purposed Surveillance Node (a favorite of hers, in shining silver and violet light) Afina quickly scanned the battlefield, doing her best to follow the actions of each of her fellow warriors.

The rebellion had not gone smoothly and, despite their best laid plans, word had reached their ears that the revived Emperor Xande would soon finish his pact. It was just through here, the Labyrinth of the Ancients. Soon they would force their way into the tower and to the top - even if they had to cut through every lieutenant to do so.

“Warrior of Light, this way!” A man beckoned, waving his gun arm above his head. With Sephirot-Egi clearing a path for them this part had gone swiftly. 

Without hesitation she flew to her comrade and dismounted, dismissing the node to go to the aid of their allies. A brief share of their rebellion’s handshake-salute combination (perhaps elaborate but what good organization DIDN’T have one?) and she turned towards the tower’s entrance. Determination flooded her tiny form - this was it. One step closer to saving everyone. “Thank you, Hawk. I’ll clear a path through the entrance, have the others back me up once they arrive.”

“We’ll be right behind ya, ‘fina. Don’t get too reckless in there, got it?”

“Yessir!” 

“And, well... that’s pretty much all I remember. The ground began to shake, the door slammed shut and... nothing.” A disheartened sigh as the woman once again begins to stir the already well-mixed coffee. “Next thing I know the gate is opening again and you and NOAH are there, cutting a way through as if nothing had happened.”

Her newfound friends had shared history’s path with her (how terrible it was to think of all of it as ‘history’, she still thought), told her how Xande had channeled forth power from Dalamud into the tower to hasten his summoning of the Cloud of Darkness and thus brought about the Calamity.

That’s all it was to them, after all. The Third Astral Era had ended in an instant, the massive influx of energy seeping from the Crystal Tower into Hydaelyn shaking the planet to its core and laying waste to everything she had known and loved.

Her friends, her family... the resistance, all but distant - and all too recent - memories.

“I’m... I’m glad you stopped him--” a sniffle, her words caught back by tears. “but... b-but it was supposed to be me. If only I’d... if I’d only been faster, then maybe... maybe...”

There is a saying among those who dabbled in the ways of the void, one appropriated from Sharlayan philosophers and re-purposed -- Peer into the void for too long and the void would seep into you. The original statement had meant little more than ‘one should accept the consequence of their inquisitions’ but for the scholars of the taboo, it was oft far more literal.

Ser Noudenet was no stranger to loneliness. The unwanted youngest son of the Jaimberds, a family of lesser nobles, he had been promptly sent off to boarding school so that his family would not have yet another mouth to feed. School had not been any kinder to him, leaving him feeling further alone as he failed to fit in with his peers. As soon as you were singled out in such away the rumors would start, and then the bullying...

People were truly monsters.

Yet his friends, his friends were wonderful creatures. At his beckoning numerous friends would come forth to visit, slithering through tears in reality to appear in his study. Some would speak sweet words that they might gain access to the conjurer’s abundant aether, others would posture threateningly and attempt to rip his heart from his chest.

All of them adored him for him. His aether or his taste, offering bits of themselves in exchange so that the conjurer might let them roam free (or at the very least, call them back to this realm later). And Noudenet adored them. Each claw, wing, tendril and scale was beloved, cherished. Cherished for many turns as he offered up his body and soul, bit by bit.

On the outside it was hardly noticeable, though the few that knew him over the turns could tell how he lost weight or how the bags under his eyes grew more persistent with nearly every moon. On the inside the mage knew he was slipping, with each step towards his friends, each breath in their presence taking a tiny sliver of what had once been a sane mind.

Slipping back into a darkness that should have been chilling, terrifying, but it wasn’t. The warm embrace of his friends was always there to catch him, to flood his heart with adoration and affection, a sense of being. How he adored the beasts that spoke to him from the shadows, that stole his breath and engulfed him in the weight of the dark, and yet held him aloft upon their wings.

With delighted sigh Noudenet rested his head upon the woman’s lap and closed his eyes, the dark (or perhaps it was merely her wing, he couldn’t tell anymore) embracing him, pulling him down and yet not, filling him with a sense of warmth and purpose as her long nails ran through his hair.

“You were a fool to challenge me!”

Bonus:

My hand slipped and a Garlean was born.

This was a mistake. Especially since I plan to tie him in with another of my OCs.

Meet Cicero kir Forza, a spoiled brat who will do anything to get the recognition he feels he deserves. Unfortunately, unlike some other engineers we know, he’s not the brightest. Nor is he the most talented. He works hard but he always seems to fall a little short of any sort of greatness.

This leads him to some pretty fun mistakes at least.

Zephirin:

He isn’t the type to try and win someone back. Although he isn’t likely to be in a relationship in the first place, should someone leave him he will do his best to accept it and move on with his life. They must have had a valid reason and he cannot fault them for that.

Charibert:

Is burning down their home with them inside it considered ‘winning them back’?

Noudenet:

He’s so terribly awkward at these things but he’d probably try to appeal to them, stop by their home and talk to them to work out what he did wrong. He doesn’t like being left alone and someone leaving him, be it friend or romantic partner, cuts deep. Best case he would plead until he gets what he wants. Worst case... let’s not discuss the worst case.

Adelphel: 

Zephirin: 

He would probably want a moogle for a pet if they weren’t intelligent... and rather annoying once they start talking. He finds them adorable. Otherwise he’s content to stick with the cat he adopted.

Charibert:

He has no interest in keeping pets, the idea of an animal running around his home disgusts him. According to him they’re filthy and shit everywhere.

Adelphel: 

They seem like a lot of work , but perhaps under the right circumstances he might take care of one.

Noudenet:

Given we already know Charibert’s response (heretics), let’s go with Zephirin and Adelphel (as Noudenet probably wouldn’t).

Ser Zephirin:

Zephirin isn’t the type who likes to make a public scene but given his strong ideals of justice and his position of being essentially law enforcement (I mean he’s a bodyguard first and foremost but here we are), he’s known to step in on situations and break up conflicts. Typically this involves him raising his voice to the tone he used as a captain of the temple knights.

Even though stepping in on things like petty thievery or harassment or many of the other things doesn’t SEEM like it’d cause a big scene it’s mostly Zephirin’s identity as Archimandrite that brings the extra attention. 

Ser Adelphel:

He rather thrives on attention. He’ll create a ‘scene’ simply accepting attention from his fans and more than once he’s accepted duels from jealous men and relished in easily defeating his challengers.