#feinic

What's my reputation? What do you think when you see my URL? @feinic

"if we fight through all the things we once knew, everything would change for you and i."

— @feinic .

attempts to lift his older brother over his shoulder. it does not go well.

joshua's arms wrap around him with all the strength he can muster, and clive finds himself transported back into their childhood.

how simple it all was back then. a little bit of playfighting, despite joshua's health, despite their mother's endless nagging and chastising. clive wanted nothing more than to make him feel like a normal child. there was so much that was out of his reach, being not only a rosfield son but also the dominant of phoenix. the least he could do, he used to think, was treating him as though nothing about him was different.

being older, clive was always taller. always stronger. lifting joshua up and carrying him away was as easy as breathing. the sound of his laughter has etched itself permanently into clive's memory.

joshua is taller than him, now. only by a little, but taller nonetheless. he's not a young boy anymore giggling and screeching with joy whenever clive tackles him playfully. but sometimes, that kid he once knew still shines through.

(     *     BARE BONES. a selection of headcanon questions inspired by key bones in the human body. ( Accepting )

@feinic asked: Sternum & Ribcage

Sternum ( what makes their heart pound hardest ? )

Battle. 

Not in the way that you would think, he is not like Garland and Sephiroth – where the two of them have found a grim pleasure in combat, where destruction only feeds into their ego and finds satisfaction with playing with the lives of others they face. A sort of itch to scratch until they are able to face a worthy opponent. 

For the Warrior it’s not like that. 

Fighting is a means to an end, were it up to him, they wouldn’t have to fight at all – but battle is an inevitable, as it is the core basis of many of the worlds they seem to be finding themselves in. His heart pounds because in these battles, it is of the utmost importance to achieve victory and restore harmony. Protecting the delicate balance of the world and to ensure his comrades return to their homeworlds. 

And perhaps… There is a bit of a thrill to it, the adrenaline filling his veins as steel meets and sparks fly, the smell of iron and blood permeating the air, the battle cries and the explosions of powerful magics surrounding him. The thrill that comes with fighting alongside his comrades, whom stand equal to him in strength and fight for that same cause, protecting what is important and each other. Knowing they have his back and him theirs makes these battles worth fighting, for as long as that strength and trust is there – victory will always be within reach. 

But he will never derive pleasure from battle. There is no true joy when one makes this the basis of one’s existence, he was taught that long ago by Prishe. 

But if I had to think of another instance that would make the ever unflappable Warrior of Light’s heart beat like a drum – it would be vulnerability. 

The context would be dependent – but the reaction would be the same. 

A nervousness would take him, he would try to divert the subject to something different, anything if it meant that he didn’t have to remove his armor that he had so carefully set up. Will they reach in and grab his heart through his ribcage? Pull it straight from his chest to teach him a lesson in how weak he is for exposing such a vulnerable part of himself? 

It is best to keep the armor on, than to ever let himself be caught without that armor. Do I mean it physically? Or metaphorically?

 Who can say for certain. 

---

Ribcage ( Who/What are they trying to protect? )

Everyone.

There was something that Cecil had said in NT, when Noctis seemed to be a little confused on the Warrior's motives and strive to complete the task at hand --

" Ever had someone you didn't understand...and yet you find what is important to them, suddenly becomes important to you?"

That quote right there encapsulates the reason why the Warrior of Light is the way he is -- he is at his core, a compassionate and caring man-- despite what his initial stoicism depicts. He sees it as his duty to look out for everyone, to help others, to fight for those who cannot fight for themselves.

Even if he didn't fully understand other people's motives, as their experiences are different from his, it won't stop him from wanting to help.

In his adventure in FFI ( spoiler ahead even if the game is like freaking 30+ years old ) he and his fellow warriors of light's endeavors was largely forgotten by the whole world because of their restoration of the time loop -- but to him it mattered not, for he did not go on that journey for fame and glory. He did it because the world was in trouble, the people needed help -- because it was the right thing to do.

He will do whatever it takes to protect the dreams and futures of everyone, so long as he draws breath -- or as best said by Superman.

“--dreams lift us up and transform us into something better, and on my soul, until my dream of a world where dignity, honor, and justice are the reality we all share, I’ll never stop fighting. Ever!”

Ashley, in all honesty, prefers these talks over much else. It's done with something in mind, a benefit to be gotten either underhandedly or overhandedly, but it helps add to her repertoire. Knowing which hands to shake, turn away, talk down, talk into. It's, naturally, not done by means accepting by her Father, but that's how it goes, sometimes.

"Luckily, tea's been served already, Mister...?"

It's a bit comical, how she fits into a space so small with attire so fluffy. Flicking away the annoyance that threatens to permeate her otherwise unassuming smile, Ashley pats down her dress, spies which tea she fancies today.

"And please don't fret about--titles. Here, we can disregard such."

"No-" And she recoils, too jerky, too fast for someone her size, and it's a miracle Maelle didn't hurt herself any further with the effort. Maybe it was the blood blurring her vision, leaking down from the cut in her head (she remembers, vaguely, reading about how head wounds bleed so much more than other areas), or maybe it was just the pure panic seizing her chest... but either way, she felt like she was being utterly suffocated.

( It didn't help that Maelle could feel the heat radiating off of him, a promise of wounds healed, but at a cost quite literally too hot to handle. )

"I'm... I'm fine." A weak lie, but it wasn't like there was much room in her skull to think when it was currently convinced that if any flames even licked her skin, it'd be the last thing that'd ever happen. God. This was stupid. It was a stupid thing to be so fearful of when she fought with fire just as much as Joshua. But that... that was different. It never actually touched her, and though Maelle couldn't recall ever being burned before, her body reacted on its own. Like it already knew how it felt, and wasn't eager for a round two.

She felt light-headed. Not great. Probably couldn't have gotten away even if she tried. So, she did the next best thing. "Please. Please, I'm okay." Soft and tremoring, a far cry from the usual sass and confidence he'd come to know. In the back of her mind, she knew it'd be easier to just get it over with. She wanted to get it over with.