#crystalmarred

She liked it. She liked seeing so many different places in the world, even though she had seen so many types of forests and mountains and beaches and snowy spots all before. Perhaps that was the part of Azem in her that resonated the strongest.

In Hiko's case, though, she was pretty sure stubborness was his. She had watched him get thrown from the back of a not-so-peaceful Rroneek for half a dozen times now, only to climb back on with more determination than the last. He had really embraced the local fashion, too, all decked out in those silly big hats and the shoes with the spurs on them.

Well, whatever made him happy. He certainly looked it. And as questionable as she found his choice of activity, her heart warmed to see her wee brother so pleased.

And speaking of pleased --

"You gettin' restless?" Erenville had been a mix of stick-in-the-mud and tentative and determined ever since they had arrived in Tural, but she could tell he was eager to get back home. Now that the Rite of Succession was over (and had ended, in her opinion, with the best possible outcome), a bunch of questions she had resurfaced that she wanted to ask him. She'd be polite about it, at least! Not like Hiko had outright asked about Erenville's accent earlier, for gods' sakes.

"Hiko'll be fine. The Rroneek'll do more damage tae him than anythin'," she waved a dismissive hand in her brother's direction. "Come on, let's get somethin' tae eat. I dinnae know what's good around here."

"--Bring me back something!" Hiko had suddenly developed supersonic hearing, it seemed.

Learning magic came with its own set of problems that one had to master – not surprising, of course, but it was simply that Orion had not anticipated it.

He was in Gridania when he discovered this problem, practicing with his Carbuncle in the Shroud. It was a simple problem with a simple solution, when it came down to it; he was running out of mana frequently and having to resort to getting out his trusty lance to finish off the monster he was fighting. The solution, of course, was that he needed a supply of ethers to keep him going.

Being in Gridania, he didn't really care to travel all the way to Ul'dah to visit the alchemists' guild. But a quick scouring of the Shaded Bower turned up nothing but a point of advice. Apparently, there was an alchemist of some skill studying at the conjurers' guild, a miqo'te by the name of X'kijin.

And so, Orion headed for the conjurers' guild. He was subsequently directed to a corner of the structure, where he found a handsome miqo'te doing, well, something, with some bottles. Orion had to admit he was less than knowledgeable when it came to alchemy, and he had truly no idea what was going on.

@crystalmarred | how many fingers am i holding up? (from Kijin if it's okay!) 𝑴𝑶𝑹𝑩𝑰𝑫 ᶜᵘʳᶤᵒˢᶤᵗʸ .    (  a  collection  of  various unsorted question prompts 

"T-three..." The young adventurer hesitated, tensing up, wary of the Miqo'te stranger and tightens the shaky grip of the Heartsickness keyblade in her left hand. Despite her head and chest pounding, Selena felt certain that her vision isn't blurry but the inquiry left her second guessing herself.

"I didn't hit the door that hard..." Selena quietly says, out of breath. She had slipped out of Dawn's Respite and had done well enough to keep herself out of sight - until she wasn't. When the keybearer suddenly bumped into him, it spooked her bad enough to run face-first into the door leading back to Dawn's Respite where she was supposed to be resting. She dropped her gil pouch in the process and its contents spilled across the floor.

After she turned around, the keyblade is summoned out of reflex, shakily holding it up to purchase distance. Pale eyes wild with apprehension stare up at him, watching, reading every movement. The color drained from her face.

What am I doing...? Why am I acting like this? I'm supposed to be safe...Right...? Feeling ashamed of herself, Selena looks away, slowly lowering the keyblade with every deep breath she took. When the weapon slips from her grip, it disappears as it fell and clatter on the floor. She rests her back against the door and stares down at the floor.

"I-I'm s-sorry...I don't know what came over me..." The young adventurer anxiously scratches the itch on her scarred ear before wiping her bloody nose on her sling. She momentarily feels around her nose as if to check to see if it had gotten broken when she hit the door and grimaces, cursing under her breath.

Ow...Did I break it again? It doesn't feel like it.

((Since there was no muse specified, I'll go with Iona!

Pro: She's a black belt. She won't let anyone fuck with you while she's around.

Things said in an adventuring party // ACCEPTING » @crystalmarred ( Tataru ) said: ‘ not to brag, but at least six men have described me as ‘terrifying’. ’ (Tataru to Eydis, two of them are Estinien and Alphinaud asdkfjhsalk—)

HER ANSWERING GRIN MATCHED Tataru's mischief, a flash of fangs and a bark of laughter. "You should brag," Eydis countered, crossing her arms leisurely across her chest. "I am not sure they would say the same of me."

One might deem it HUMOROUS how there are tiny little IMPERFECTIONS within a characteristic all but intimately BOUND to someone. Urianger is known for being the epitome of observant, nigh impossible to catch off guard or in a state of ill prep, and yet . . . despite his wealth of observational skills, he cannot seem to realize when he has droned on for far longer than necessary. How he manages to turn a request for aid into a Sharlayan thesis is beyond the understanding of even those closest to him, yet there he sits, brow creased deeply in that contemplative manner, detailing how he found himself in this predicament in the first place.

Humorous, even more, is the lack of realization that his flowery manner of speaking and writing is the sole cause of this entire ordeal in the first place.

"Why am I not surprised to find you here?" There's humor in his tone as he approaches, a brow raising whilst he took in the other and his attire. "Am I right in assuming that Tataru has you doing favors for her, yet again?" The woman sure did love putting their dear friend to WORK didn't she?

Thancred folded his arms across his chest, weight shifting from one leg to the other. With the way in which he PRESSED his lips tightly together, it was easy to tell the Hyur was close to laughing, but held together determinedly.