moon of salt

It was very kind of  Denis Villeneuve to cast Timothée Chalamet in the new Dune and give me the absolute best portrayal of a younger Raven that I could possibly ask for.

Seriously, put some snow in the background, swap a sandworm for a dragon and it’s there. Even the shots with his Father and training with his mentor are perfect.

Due to illness, An Evening Of Poetry has been cancelled for the night of September 25th.  

Please accept our most sincere apologies for the disappointment and inconvenience.  We hope to see you all again soon next month! ((Circulation of this cancellation flyer is much appreciated so as not to further inconvenience expectant guests.))

A private social and academic establishment catering to discerning gentlepersons of like mind and philosophy, The Grand Cross free company opens their doors at The Stellium in less than a fortnight to one and all for an evening of spoken poetry.  Join us in performing, and encourage and cultivate the art of poetry in our very own club, gathering with unknown talents spanning Eorzea and beyond!

During your visit, feel free to explore the club, upstairs and down, inside and out.  Various rooms are available for your enjoyment, including but not limited to Le Salon De The teahouse, The Stranger’s Room lounge, and a large reference library.  Anyone wearing a “Looking To Meld” icon above their head belongs to The Grand Cross and can be queried for further information.

Refreshments, both alcoholic and otherwise, are provided free of charge this night by the owners of The Stellium.  NPC bartenders will be available for your own personal brand of roleplaying enjoyment.

This is an adult event; however for the sake of propriety, please refrain from any excess, overtly gratuitous language or themes.  R-rated is appropriate, X-rated is decidedly not.  Remember to give your fellow performers the same level of respect and quiet you would require for yourself.  Hecklers and rabble-rousers will be duly ejected.

Sign-ups for performances begin in-game 30 minutes prior to start time, just inside the club.  Doors also open at this time.  Earlier sign-ups can be done by contacting Charlemont Mercaiges, Raven Alderscorn, or Corwynn Grey in game, or by messaging Char#6733 on Discord.

Should you have any questions about the event, please reply to this post or get in touch using one of the above methods.  Please tell all your friends, and we look forward to seeing you at The Grand Cross at The Stellium!

There’s a saying in Ishgard that all roads lead to Halone and, perhaps, there was some truth in that adage. For, on this late evening in particular, one of her flock stumbled from the tavern, into the streets of the city, and eventually found himself in Her house.

He entered the Cathedral and slumped onto one of the massive oak benches that sat sentinel on either side of another door. Beyond stood row upon row of empty pews, like soldiers in a wooden army. The sleep he so desperately needed eluded him, however, and he found himself lost in the river of his own thoughts.

Then stay and burn with the rest.

Raven pressed the heels of his palms against the sockets of his stinging eyes.  "Stop,“ he said to himself. Against the tears that threatened to breech the tired lids of his eyes? Or the memory of his own words that echoed in the cavern of his mind. Words spoken on this night, some years ago. The last words his father would ever hear from his son.

Then stay and burn with the rest

"STOP, DAMMIT!” he hissed, shoving himself to his feet a little too quickly. He stumbled into a candle stand, knocking it to the marble floor with a violent clatter, sending half-spent candles rolling until stopped by their own melting wax. Like a ship at sea, he listed back and forth and watched their flames flicker and carve through the white wax, gathering it into pools against the cold floor. Raven sagged and finally sank to his knees before the mess of bent iron and untended flames.

Then stay

“Please…”

and burn with the rest

Unbidden, the tears finally came in great sobs. He sagged backwards against the unyielding wood of the bench and spread his arms along it’s seat and peered upward  through hazy eyes at the visage of the Fury that adorned the stained glass window above the door. A glow, warm at first, and then all consuming and furious, lit her from behind and shone down, lending a divine aura to the crumbled form of the knight.

He squinted in defiance against the light. “No,” he growled. “It’s not your sin to forgive.” As if in answer, the sun moved upon its natural course and left the window dim with overcast, morning light. Raven closed his eyes against the sparks that dazzled his vision and fell into an uneasy sleep.

For FFxivWrite2019 - @sea-wolf-coast-to-coast

Characters: Ozodug, Aroujin, Dubus

Warnings: None

The sun shone bright on a summer’s day, high within the mountains.

A new mother sat on a smoothed out boulder, adorned with skins and colorful fabrics for comfort, making the simple piece of nature look like a throne with its central placement within the ilho. Her belly was already swelling large again to add to the new family and in her outstretched hands she held her son’s small ones, helping him balance on his small feet. His skin was as pale blue as hers and eyes those of the boy’s father.

It was with great pride and joy Ozodug watched his wife and first born, his grin so wide he could feel his cheeks ache from the stretch. He kneeled just a fulm away from the two and his eyes nearly teared up when the child cooed happily towards the two.

“Come on here!” Ozodug urged with a hint of excitement, spreading his arms in a welcoming fashion when Aroujin let go of one of the child’s hands, “Come to papa, Dubus!”

His mother letting go of his other hand didn’t seem to bother Dubus in the least as one foot raised, his body wobbling slightly before taking his first step forward. And then a slow second step. And a third followed by a giggle seeing the beaming, toothy grin growing on his father’s face.

The fourth step never came as large hands swooped down to catch the boy right before falling to the ground. A rumbling laugh escaped Ozodug as he stood, bringing Dubus high towards the sky as Aroujin clapped her hands with a soft laugh to share her family’s joy.

Nearly screeching in laughter to the sudden height he reached, the child’s attention suddenly shifted from his father to the distant horizon visible between the mountain peaks. One small hand reached out towards the silhouette of an eagle as the laughing toned down into a curious coo.

In the early morning, Ozodug opened his eyes, ending the precious memory. Things were the same, the decorated boulder he sat on, the yurts surrounding him and the horizon in the distance. Except the smile on his lips was halfhearted and he was alone.

“Maybe… I can find another happiness, too.” slowly he stood, bringing with him a tightly packed bag, “Find what you found so charming beyond…”

“Gods, Brynn,” Gerart said with a bemused, doubtful laugh, “to hear you tell it, the boy’s useless! If that’s the case, pack ‘em up, send 'em off to the Astrologicum!”

The two men, father and son, marched down the lane toward one of the Cathedral’s many training squares. The chill of the early spring morning was just beginning to warm up and the pace that the older man was setting raised beads of sweat on his son’s forehead.  He dragged his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “He’s not smart enough,” Brynn said.

They reached the gates of the training grounds and the air was suddenly filled with the music of practice. Calls and cries and the percussion of wooden swords against shields. Gerart gave a stern look to his son. “I was joking. The boy is what? Ten?? If I'da given up on you as easily as you’re set to give up on Raven, I warrant you’d be rollin’ out maps and fetching tea for your betters.”

“Dad…” Brynn began  to protest again and reached for the latch on the gate.

Gerart’s hand seized upon the gate and held it closed, straightening to his full height. “Yes, *Captain*?” His tone and posture left no room for further nonsense.

Brynn’s mouth snapped shut and he stiffened to attention. It was one thing to have a discussion within the walls of the family manor but here, in uniform and within the shadow of the Cathedral beneath the appraising eye of Halone herself, there was no questioning his father.

“Nothing, General,” Brynn said.

“Good,” said Gerart. “I believe I will assess Raven on my own. You may go.”