#crystaliiize

A couple sketches for some pieces i want to do but i've been too busy not doing them >>;;

Feat. G'raha( @crystaliiize )and M'firhi, Haurchefant (@neigetomb) and M'firhi, and Artoirel (@defortemp) and Sigun

@crystaliiize |  ❛ You shouldn’t be by yourself. You don't know what might happen. ❜

The Queen’s Gambit Sentence Prompts

Noticing the coming and going of adventurers and other wanderers, the hooded keybearer had assumed that she could blend in as another nameless face just passing through Mor Dhona. With a puzzled expression, Artemis briefly wonders how she managed to catch someone’s attention. Was it the lack of weapon on her person? Given that every other adventurer is seen with a weapon of some sort, it seemed likely that the absence of one would make her a bit suspicious.

It was another clear, bright day but by all that was holy it was cold out, and even though Maru was bundled up well enough under the circumstances, somehow the chill in the air still managed to feel like it was cutting through his coat to freeze his very bones. And with the days getting colder, fewer people were out and those that were, were reluctant to stop outside for long which meant that selling his ‘wares’ was an exercise in futility a lot of days.

In recent days, the Miqo’te had finally decided that it wasn’t worth it, sitting outside with his blanket of whittled figures, trying to sell something that might enable him to warm up with a coffee or fill his hungry belly.

Instead, he’d taken to trying to find any outlets that might be advertising (or not, because it didn’t hurt to ask) for volunteers.

There would still be no coffee, no sandwich, no money for a night indoors and out of the elements but at least if he could find somewhere to take him, he’d be warmer during the day. And keeping busy too, to help the time pass more quickly.

And so it was that after being declined at two other stores already that day, Maru set his sights on a third.

Hiding his pack of worldly belongings so that it wasn’t obvious that he was an... ‘unfortunate’ to the shopkeeper he was about to meet, the fair haired feline straightened his worn but not dirty clothes, tried to smooth his unruly hair into something a little more presentable than his usual ‘rolled out of bed’ look (failed, because his hair had a mind of its own) and took a deep breath. Third time was the charm right? Even though he’d thought the same the prior day... and the day before that...

One last check in the window of the flower shop to confirm that he looked like any other shopper, more-or-less and hoping he’d hidden his pack well enough that it wouldn’t get stolen in the meantime, Maru finally entered the store, smelling the flowers as he stepped inside.

    Damn. Shit, fuck, damn.

Vel knew those eyes. He’d seen them a thousand times-- worn them his fair share as well-- and he knew what the meant. The fear in those eyes was deadlier than the flames themselves. The inferno, as enormous and all-encompassing as it seemed, could be outrun if they’d just move fast enough, but that gripping, icy terror makes escape an impossibility. Your legs turn to lead, every breath you try and take catching in your throat as the sound of your heart hammering fills your ears with rushing blood and the screams in the depth of your mind--

The other man looks up at him, lost and overwhelmed, petrified in place as Vel winces from the heat of the blaze licking at their heels (along with where his own thoughts had taken him). In an instant, Velkyn knows that G’raha won’t be moving anywhere on his own.

  But he’ll be damned if that means leaving him.

Setting his jaw, Vel repositions his outstretched hand, leaving G’raha’s wrist to close around his bicep and drag him close. He bends as a nearby tree cracks and groans, its insides licked clean by tongues of flame and its emptied corpse left to smolder and crumble. Tasting the ashes and smoke in his mouth ( they need to move quick ) Velkyn draws in a breath as he hoists G’raha up to lay securely across his shoulders.

The instant he knows for certain he’s not in danger of losing his hold on the other man, he takes off, running for both their lives.

Years had gone by that Y’shtola had harbored a disdain for the Exarch. Secrets kept hidden away from her in many aspects easily a way to keep her favor far from the source of it, as well as being essentially barred from the plethora of resources within the tower to keep the enigma of the true identity of the man at bay. His intentions meant little to her when it had meant turning Scion against Scion, and it had always kept her at odds with him even with their return to the Source.

Yet any time she would walk by, she could feel his aether fluctuate, his guard up around her. Amusing as it was, the sorceress had come to quell her grudge against the former monarch of the Crystarium, and instead merely play a game of cat and mouse to bide her time. It wasn’t until she was certain that he was unsuspecting that she struck—a finger against his nose.

“You’re far too tense.” She almost chided, if it hadn’t been for the growing curl of her lips. “Fretting will make you grow into an old man while you are still young. I know you’ve seen Urianger.” A small prod at her fellow Scion as she chuckled, tilting her frame to stand at profile towards him, her lids closing over silver eyes as she let out a gentle breath.

"Why are you trying to protect this world so much? It isn't your own... is it?" Truly, he was more than a little confused over the nature of the other man, but his aether didn't seem to originate from Hydaelyen herself.

“Unbending” pauses for a moment, in the slight fear he had done something to give himself away. For how else could one know, with the Transform Staff having altered the appearance of his body?

... But he forgets this is not exactly an ordinary dweller of this world. He knows of the nature of this world, of the Source and its shards, for one. And for another... he is rather sensitive to “aether” (though Olberic knows little and less of magic, far less one of a world still rather foreign to him).

He is tempted to ask what gave it away... But decides against such. He will just have to hope that his trust will not be misplaced in G’raha.

“ ... An odd question to come from the man who fought so hard to save a world that was not his own himself. The First, was it not? ” Arms cross gently, needing to be somewhere other than his sides for at least a moment, and he shakes his head a little with the ghost of a sad smile forming in the corners of his lips. (Ghosts. Always ghosts. Olberic has too many of those, really). “ But I would not be so rude as to deny you an answer. ‘Tis because I swore an oath, and have the means to protect people in ways others do not. ”

Another pause, the accursed spectres are threatening to strangle him.

“ To allow such a thing to go to waste is selfish. And besides... I have no world of my own to return to, really. ”

There are other worlds with Orsterra on them, of course. Other worlds with the Highlands, Cobbleston, or even worlds where Hornburg still stands... But they are not his.