#diskwrite-ffxiv

Send “My turn!” for dialogue my muse would have while in a party with yours.

Honoura Hawke and Jophoix Suinuet join your party!

“Jophoix!” - Starting line“I’m right here, yeah?” - Assisting“Sorry sorry sorry” - Being assisted“N O.” - Witnessing Jophoix KO“You had me really worried there.” - Upon Revival“Bloody glad that’s over with, you?” - Finishing line

Being the healer in the party and also a gangly sweetheart, Jophoix will have Hon on his heels for the entirety of the dungeon. Unless there’s a mechanic that demands they not overlap, she’ll keep close. Between pulls there might be idle chatter between the two; if the dungeon is somehow creepy or nerve-wracking to the young elezen, Hon will make use of several emotes like /comfort, /rally and /hug if it’s called for. Should his health get critically low, she’ll toss him a potion.

Honoura Hawke and Ojene Suinuet join your party!

“Ma’am.” - Starting line“Just doing my part.” - Assisting“Um. Thank you.” - Being assisted“Ohhhshite.” - Witnessing Ojene KO“You all right?” - Upon Revival“Better them than me.” - Witness Ojene LB“Let’s go the hells home, please.” - Finishing line

I’m gonna do Merrick for reasons

tfw you were gonna say dicks

The world was a hazy, gently rotating blur of color as Tiergan lay sprawled across an armchair.  A bottle of Limsan rum dangled lazily from one hand and he watched little motes of sunlight dance in the beams streaming in through a nearby window.  He’d traveled back to his Goblet home as soon as the opportunity presented itself, stripping out of his armor the moment he stepped through the door,  He left a trail of discarded leather in his wake and the next few hours were a blur of alcohol, his body swathed in a familiar and comforting white Ala Mhigan robe whose scent reminded him of Othard.

The scars on his back burned, ached more than they had in years as though they were still fresh - still new. And he found himself desperately fixating on one spot or another within his home, the fact that it was his and given to him by his brother grounding him in the present moment when every part of his mind was so ready to slip into the past.

Ojene

Their first impression: “My first impression?  My very first impression…”   Tiergan’s gaze remained lazily fixed to the ceiling as he sorted his thoughts, the tip of his tail twitching before he brought the bottle of rum to his lips and took a deep, long pull from it.  The burn running down the length of his throat somehow made it easier to speak.“My first impression was that she was a hero. A savior.  I was …small back then. A child.  My parents were dead.  My entire world was crumbling.  The city was on fire.  Ojene descended from seemingly nowhere at all to pull my sister and I from the burning wreckage of a bombed out home.  She seemed so strong, filled with a fierce light of determination, even while leading so many people to safety. So many refugees…  I really thought, as long as I stayed close and listened to what she said, we would all be safe.”

Their current impression:  The gladiator flinched at the question, recoiling from it as though struck with a knife that slid effortlessly past muscle, straight to the bone.  He curled in on himself, as though balling up could somehow force back the sharp well of emotion surging up to the surface as he wrenched his eyes shut.   He didn’t answer.

What they like the most about your muse:  “I… admired her determination. Her dedication to justice.  That same inner strength I saw in Ala Mhigo was still there twenty years later. even if the years had shaped her into someone slightly different.”What they dislike the most about your muse:  “She’s sharp and cutting.  Brutal when she wants to break you down. Destroy you.  And it happened without warning…”  The gladiator paused, a strange expression crossing his face before he let out a short, delirious laugh, musical and mirthless all at once.  When he spoke again, his voice came deeper, gravelly and ragged. He shook his head, murmuring something softly under his breath.

What your muse is for them ( Friend, lover, rival, etc.): “…Nothing.  She’s nothing to me.”A general opinion of their relationship:  “I thought we were friends, comrades.  I brought her supplies when she first arrived in Castrum Oriens.  I was there pacing outside when her first child was born.We fought to liberate Ala Mhigo alongside each other.

“O-ok why? But also how slow is ‘slow’ are we talking hours or days here? Also why?”

Misto would likely try to get the antidote first and foremost, if one existed, whatever he had to do short of killing someone he likes would be on the books. If one didn’t, then there would be tears and a lot of wailing. After a while of being inconsolable the most likely plan would be getting so high and/or drunk that he won’t notice when he dies.

@diskwrite-ffxiv