Chamu Time!

The Coil of Bahamut was an exploration I'd scarcely paid attention to. In fact, I'd skipped most of it in favor of the fifth "turn" of said coil, which was a fair walk in the park! That is, if it was a walk in the park filled with snakes ravishing your little group's beloved paladin and contained an extremely hostile bird with a peculiar collar that's ready to body slam you multiple times and send miniature tornadoes your way that'll destroy your body in less than a second.

Nevertheless! We'd completed our park walk and entered into the sixth turn! It's quite a beautiful scene, befitting of the lovely, ochu-like flower who inhabits the place. Graceful even whilst sending a devastating cleave our party's way. The glorious pose made while she spews a cloud of spores in the air that cause instant death upon even the slightest movement. Ahhh, and the perfect aim when she throws honey at our dearest sweet bard... To hells with coil.

Mere days after switching grand companies, I'd been sent off to battle on the front lines to... I don't really know why we're all here, actually. I wasn't really listening to the guy sending me off - I just didn't want to deal with the formalities at the time, having just returned from the depths of coil. I was extremely tired, yknow! (I'll talk about that later, diary.)

Hells, I fell asleep when I was put on guard duty for our little outpost! Which, of course, led to my untimely end. An end that, of course, had repeated its self many times for the rest of the day, given that I'm a healer and I pick myself up fast and we're not allowed to kill each other ("civilized" war or whatever) and Hydaelyn and yeah yeah yeah.

The secret art of discreetly feeling the softness of the bottoms of many have been passed down from generations of those who hunt for beauties, I being no exception to the skill. Neither the morose beats of rain nor the scorching heat of day would stay my hand from gently patting the soft curve that makes up a beautiful being's backside! Even Miqo'tes of the sharpest perception have yet to escape my grasp! (Including D'irk. Yes, even him. You remember, don't you future Chachamu?)

I'd recently got a nice new hairstyle for the festival as its end nears! I'd saved up just enough money to afford a nice treat for myself at the Bismark as well! 

...But you and I both know that this isn't what this entry is all about, future Chachamu. It's about crossing with the (stolen) target from the other day alongside D'irk. However, this time I was met with no dilemma about choosing targets: just sheer awe at the sight of the Eorzea's biggest grump sharing a near complete lack of clothing with a particularly sparkly dancer.

Yet, D'irk wasn't doing much of anything himself. Just a stern glare at the man and his (sexily impressive) performance, as if judging the quality of the simple sway of that stranger's hips... or was he just staring at his bottom?

So this is where you were! Mom, I've been looking for you forever! I was really worried, y'know?

Today, I confronted Ifrit for the third time.

After many deaths, injuries, and a massive headache for each of us, I hope I will never have to step foot in this place again - at least, not while I'm surrounded in a flaming circle with a primal ready to slay me as many times as it takes. Honestly, what would we do without White Mages and Arcanists?

We would all be dead, actually. At least, I know I'd be. Died on one of my first quests: punching rocks for that godsdamned old man Hamon.

Having the sinking feeling of regret, I'd returned to the spot without much of a purpose. And yet, unexpectedly, I'd found the stranger one more, fully-clothed and gazing upon the lightened stalls of Sapphire Avenue. Silent as she was, her back spoke of a certain kind of wonder... I couldn't bring myself to bother her.

S-... Siblings?