#cnavant

❝ Oh! Uhhh ... Why not? Don't you like it? ❞

(Full gpose photo below)

Trick or treat!!!

Lights were flickering when he opened his eyes. Motes of light blurred his vision, being swept away by a current that his skin could barely feel. There was silence, at first. He frowned as his mind fitted together the pieces of the puzzle that his memories had been the last few minutes before he fell unconscious. And as his mind began to work, a ringing sound flooded his ears. A gurgle, an attempt at a growl, rose guttural from deep within him. And when the beeping faded like a whisper, in the absolute silence of that place, he recognized the tinkling of the stars skimming the infinite sea of the Horizon where he was. The place he would call his end; or so he had thought.

The pain would've make him wrench, were it not for the one who cut his would-be scars if he was to survive this. The blood impregnating dried while he was unconscious, but the water beneath him, with imperceptible movements, had been cleaning the parts it could reach, dyeing itself scarlet before being swept away by the currents of that ethereal place, setting a sunset of the memories from that man. For in crimson it began. His thoughts of him did not leave Zenos as his vision was gradually restored. The smiles they shared, their blades clashing like meteorites. Their footsteps as they danced and the brightness of the place illuminating the crimson blood that gushed from every wound opened by his adversary's blades. His scythe cutting him open, the warmth of his skin as the blood rushed through their veins. The strong grips that shaped their dance, their moment. It was pure bliss. And when everything started to became more clear to his eyes and the blur vanished, he realized he was not at the end of the universe. Not anymore.

He'd been wandering around Thanalan for a few days. A tattered cloak covered his face and much of his body; while his extraordinary size was no help in not drawing attention to himself, at least they could not see his face. Not that he needed to hide, even if he was considered a traitor by his own homeland. The inconvenience of showing himself as he was around Eorzea, though, would bring nothing but trouble and, for the moment, he wanted to avoid that.

He'd been following a figure that was familiar to him from the shadows for some minutes now, slipping through the high ground that the arid terrain offered and hiding among the people when he needed to. To his luck, many highlanders walked in these lands, so at least his size was not too unusual. This figure seemed to be accompanied by another one that looked strangely familiar. Stylized, slender as a sword and with a fierce and shrewd semblance. Ah… Drusilla. The other figure, on the other hand, seemed more smitten by time. His clothes looked odd to him, and were those of someone who didn't want to draw too much attention to himself. The most curious thing, however, was to see the large scythe he carried on his back. Zenos continued to follow them from a safe distance for a few minutes, and was able to witness the combat his friend and Drusilla were engaged in. A voidsent appeared before them.

The battle was brief, yet it evoked memories that made the garlean's blood rush. He could barely hear what they were talking about when the voidsent disappeared, but he knew it was his moment when Drusilla abandoned the scene in deep silence, leaving the miqo'te alone on the limestone bridge, presumably with his thoughts.

His steps were no longer silent, the sand crunching under the weight of his boots as he shortened the distance between them. Undoubtedly, it was him. He could never mistake nor forget those features no matter how much time might change them. And, standing there, staring at the one who was his destiny, he parted his lips, but no words spilled from them. For the first time he did not know what to say, not to Lex. For weeks he had thought of his company and his strength. He longed to feel all of it again. Yet he felt blank. Cerulean eyes watched him under a gnawed cloak, shadowing his face. He stopped walking, standing in front of him, and waited in ceremonious silence.

Headpats for Amaurot. He is always happy to give it attention :3

​It makes a sulky face at him in response, but leans into the headpat. “Still mad with you.”

@cnavant​​ :  CUP: bringing both hands up to cup the receiver’s face, the sender draws them in closer to them in order to get a better look at their face.  --- from 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐆𝐎 👀 [ ACCEPTING ]

With her memories returned upon meeting her dear, DEAR parents, Yotsuyu can’t possibly help the dread nesting in her chest; the grief clinging to her heart. And with both comes the steadfast decision to end it all, once and for all. The kindness of the people in the Doman Enclave isn’t meant for the Witch of Doma, and she won’t tolerate it any longer. Thus, she leaves the Kienkan with a tantō hidden within the wide sleeve of her Haori, her free hand holding onto the hilt of the blade tightly.

She doesn’t get as far as she wants --- frankly, she doesn’t even manage to leave the building. The moment she notices a movement in her peripheral vision, a hand reaching for her, Yotsuyu simply REACTS. Whipping around, she draws the tantō and thrusts it towards the person so close to her already; the way it slides so EASILY into the flesh of whoever is approaching her is nigh disturbing. She doesn’t look up for a few long seconds, her field of vision filled with but the other person’s collarbone, neck and the dim hallway beyond them. A shaky breath, and then her eyes slowly wander up --- only now recognizing the Warrior of Light. Lex, as she’s learned while amnesiac. There’d been no need to learn his name before, when she’d been viceroy. He had been but another OBSTACLE.

Thus,the sight of the man injured by her hand would have filled her with glee then .Now it merely chips away at the last bit of composure she has. This isn’t what she wants anymore. No, rather, she doesn’t KNOW what she wants anymore, but surely this isn’t it...? Yotsuyu’s thoughts are brought to a sudden halt when Lex raises his hands, but instead of the expected push or strike, he merely cups her face gently. Through the pain so clearly recognizable on his face, she can see --- pity? Or concern, perhaps, although neither makes much sense, does it? Not that it matters. With a sharp inhale, Yotsuyu lets go of the tantō and pulls away, eyes darting over the other’s form. 

  "Okay... It said that this is the place, but... uhhh...”

Pixel glanced down at the book in hand, staring at the painting of said temple, and of where he was currently at. The chambers inside were cold and stuffy, and he was glad to have his coat on. A stone table of some sort was before him, and he set down some fresh berries and water that he had gathered not long ago, before turning the page in his book.

  “... - But I could be at the wrong spot? I don’t know. Ugh... This was a mistake. Came all this way for some fairytale.” He sighed, setting the book on top of the table, and folded his arms with the sudden frustration rising in him. It had just been a little adventure. Something to get his mind off of everything that has been going on, and he should have just been grateful to get outside without any sort of violence happening along the way. But no. He was just a tiny bit sour. Not that I wanted to get jumped, but...

Oh? Forchenault is in town? Great. He's got some words to say and based on his stance, Forchenault better choose his words wisely or he's going to get very intimate with the cobblestone. 

The white-haired Elezen knew the other was nearby, or in town, as many were chatting almost non-stop about it. He had to go about his day, though, and ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. It was as if he knew trouble was ahead, but kept such thoughts only to himself, and ignore it.

After several hours of doing whatever needed be done for the Forum, he was back at his residence to try and relax. The servants were milling about, and his wife had gone out of the city for a few weeks on business of her own. So, for the most part he was by himself, and he somewhat hated it.

send try + a character you’d like to see me ( attempt ) to write !

     "Such sorry cut you have and what is that make-up?"

     Never question why Jandelaine has entry to Old Sharlayan. He has his... ways of resurfacing where he's needed most. That and he couldn't just turn down a desperate call for help. If he woke up one day and looked like them, he'd be bleeding from his eyes due to the unstopping tears. He prepared his glamour kit and favorite pair of scissors.