#ffxivhousing

Designer name: Seren Ipheion Tags: greenery, Hingan, Japanese, wood Plot Size: M Address: Dynamis, Golem, Shiro, P54-W7 Inspired By: Traditional Japanese house. Status: Open

I still feel you, a strange moment Like watching a bird fall from a tree Like an owl falling asleep in the night An unnatural moment. I sense a grief has struck you A moment where you have shifted. A point Of turn.

---------------------------------------------------------------------- I had a horrible nightmare that night after training against what Zeiro called the Frozen Dead People...zombies, for lack of a better term.

A freezing, utterly cold sweat - colder than the blizzard outside - shocked me out of my slumber before I could scream.

Which was a good thing, because the last thing I wanted to do was wake up Zeiro and have him see me sobbing.

I tore from the room. I didn't bring my sword, I didn't even grab a coat. The second that my cheeks felt the snow-filled air, I fell to my knees on the cobblestones.

It was one of those gut-shaking cries. The really deep, primal sobs that few emotions garnered outside of the most guttural and unnatural grief.

The nightmare replayed in my head over and over again - a unique torture that I could not talk my way out of. There was no negotiating here, no one holding my head underwater...this was a torture of the mind...and the only one in charge was me.

Everyone had been killed. All of my friends. Murdered. Members of my family, members of the EverFlame. Everyone I had ever known and loved. Some of them had slit throats. Some of them, like Valek, had their eyes gouged out of their skulls. My brother Kayvan had been decapitated, his head rolling at my feet, and there was blood everywhere. Even my nieces and nephews, the oldest of whom barely seven years old, had all been brutally dismembered.

Gore. I had never experienced such gore in my life. I was not a killer, I had never been in a war. To see gore? Me? MY subconscious? It made me sob harder.

And the cold. Their bodies had all been so cold.

I burst into heavy sobs again, burying my face into my hands and unable to heal.

It had been everyone. Every single person, from little Coco to the towering Jeb.

Staggering to my feet and blinking in the freezing midnight air, I moved to wipe my cheeks, realizing that the tears on them had already formed to ice - a sticky salty mixture that flaked into my hands as I wiped it away. And my eyes found themselves glancing at my sleeves, still looking for two snowflakes that were the same.

The snowflakes were all still different.

"I want to go home," I sobbed to no one in particular. "I am not built for this place, and I am not meant to be a warrior."

Of course, it was midnight on the edge of the city, and no one was around to hear, let alone respond.

At the silence that met me, my grief compounded, and I screamed. I screamed in fear for my family, in fear for my friends. In fear for myself. I was still cursed - and curses loved to play tricks on the mind before eating your soul from the inside out.

I sank back down onto the cobblestones then, continuing my sobbing and just letting the grief ride over me like a horrible wave. It just needed to pass. I just needed to cry, feel my feelings, and then when the feelings were felt, I was sure I would start to feel better.

For the millionth time, I wondered what my mother was doing. She would hate to see me like this - and not from a sympathy standpoint. It was just a dream, Najva, I could hear her scolding. Time to pick yourself up, dry your eyes, and continue what you came here to do.

But something inside me had changed, and I could feel the old imposter syndrome that I had dealt with back at EverFlame creeping back.

You're doing great, Naj, Zeiro's voice echoed in my head. You're doing really well, and I'm proud of you.

Then why did I still feel like I was a fish out of water? Why was I gasping for air?

Pick yourself up. Dry your eyes. Continue what you came here to do.

I...I couldn't. The nightmare came back: the gore in particular was so traumatizing and debilitating that I could barely lift my head. And despite what my mother would say, it wasn't just a dream.

It was my friends, and they had been killed.

I stood up then, the storm dissipating and leaving an eerie silence across all of Ishgard. The clouds rolled away, and the moon beamed down upon me with its equally-eerie light. But in that light, I felt a sense of clarity, a moment of serenity - that serenity that I felt when I first arrived in Ishgard...this mysterious, dark place of cold and turmoil.

And I began to walk.

I wasn't sure where I was going; I wasn't even sure if my feet knew where I was going. All I knew was that I needed to move.

Just move. Just walk. Let the calmed air calm you.

While the city was much calmer at this hour, a few individuals lingered, notably outside of the near tavern. The tavern was warm, I was sure. I found myself moving inside.

Warmth hit me like a thousand weighted blankets - heat. Blessed warmth. Quiet music played in the back; nothing lively, but instead, quiet and calming. I didn't recognize the instruments that were being played, but there certainly were no harps in sight.

"My goodness," a voice rumbled next to me, and I turned to find myself face-to-face with the bartender - a middle-aged Elezen man with skin as pale as the moon outside and eyes as blue as a Thavnairian sea. "You are certainly not from around these parts, are you dear?"

I smiled softly, sliding onto a stool and sighing. "I don't have any money," I admitted to him. "I just...wanted to get warmth. Plus, alcohol doesn't like my body."

The Elezen laughed, moving to fill a mug with....something. "On the house and non-alcoholic it is, then," he said with a grin. "Just some good ol' coffee. Ishgardian is okay for a Thavnairian, I hope."

I grinned. Of course my accent gave me away immediately. "All coffee is good, as much as literally anyone would disagree with that," I said with a chuckle, cradling the hot mug as the ice on my cheeks melted away. "Thank you."

The Elezen nodded, still smiling, and then moved to refill another patron's glass, and then he moved back to check on me. By that time, the coffee was already more than halfway gone. "So what brings a Thavnairian to our great and glorious city?" he asked curiously, watching me inhale my drink. "Certainly it is not the weather."

I chuckled again, shaking my head. "It's not a good place if you want to go to the beach," I said with a smile, "but it's certainly a good place to go if you're hiding."

"Ah, yes," the Elezen said with a twinkle in his eye. "The good ol' 'runaway' trope. We collect them like children collect candy. But you are one yalm tall. What could you possibly be running from?"

I shook my head. I wasn't about to pour out my secrets to a stranger, even though he was friendly - but I did need a shoulder, emotionally. I figured I could take the offered talk, make it vague, and still find comfort. Quietly I answered, "I feel like I'm a danger to everyone I love."

He smiled more softly at that. "Ah. Well, you look like a strong warrior. I'm sure you could beat back anyone that comes your way, no matter how tall they are or how short you are." He sent me a wink.

I blinked at him. "What did you say?"

He moved to clean up a glass. "You look like a strong warrior," he repeated as he moved a rag into the cup and swished it around. "You have that look about you. Someone who has become strong out of necessity rather than just....for fun."

I blinked again, and then blinked again. "You're terrible at reading people," I teased him. "And you're wrong on both fronts."

He looked up from his task, looking into my eyes with immeasurable kindness. "Am I? I've been reading people for a long time, young one. It's my job. One of the harshest places in the world, Ishgard - harsh places breed harsh people."

I listened quietly, still thinking he was full of bullshit.

He went to refill another order, and then came back to me, putting the clean glass away before leaning a little on the bar, eyeing me quietly for a moment, before saying, "You've been crying. It doesn't take much for me to know that. People cry for only two reasons: because they've lost something, or they are fighting for something. And both things are marks of strong people. Strength in loss - or strength in perseverance."

I blinked at him yet again, and he moved to clean another glass, still speaking. "I see your strength. Strength breeds warriors." He looked up again, winking. "People tend to underestimate the little guy. When you're facing a giant monster, you expect it to act like a giant monster. And when you're facing a small Au Ra from Thavnair....you probably expect it to act like a small Au Ra from Thavnair."

I furrowed my eyebrows, but my heartrate skyrocketed.

He kept going. "That's why you have every imaginable advantage. I say this to Lalafellian warriors all the time, too. People say 'never judge a book by its cover' - but they ALWAYS will judge a book by its cover." His eyes twinkled.

"It's so difficult," I whispered to him. He didn't act like any bartender I'd ever met in my life. He talked too much, but his words were...healing me. "It's so difficult to push through the imposter syndrome."

"I bet it is," the Elezen laughed lightly. "But that will make the victory taste that much better, won't it? Knowing that you didn't become who you are because your nature handed it to you on a silver platter. You became you who are because you pushed past nature."

My chest heaved a little as I tried to regain my ability to breathe rhythmically. "I have....awful dreams."

His eyebrows furrowed at that. "Of disappointing those who love you? Endangering them?"

I nodded quietly, then forced out a sarcastic laugh. "My mother would tell me to pull myself together."

The Elezen chuckled. "I have a mother like that too. Her love language is still Scolding. As I've gotten older, I think I've come to disagree. Dreams have power, both in the subconscious and otherwise."

I smiled softly up at him, and he refilled my coffee before I even noticed it was empty. As he did so, he said quietly, "I think....you're at that strange middle stage. The precipice right before you jump off and trust yourself with your own strength. It can be really scary, learning to trust yourself and not give yourself over to the opinions of people that you love. But you'll be able to do it."

"How do you know?" I whispered softly as he moved to clean another glass.

"Because you're still here," he said simply, smiling. "You could have gone back to Thavnair at any point - and maybe aloud you've said that you want to go back home....but you won't. You've come too far now." His eyes sparkled.

My eyes sparkled right back. "Maybe my fear of disappointment simply is heavier than my desire for comfortability," I teased.

He chuckled. "Nothing wrong with that," he said simply, and the simple answer made me blink yet again.

After a thoughtful moment, he continued, a small smile on his lips. "I think your precipice is right around the corner. And I think it'll surprise you, how well your leap of faith is."

Suddenly, a commotion occurred behind me: a brawl. I turned to look at the brawlers, my heart skipping a few beats for fear of being victim to a thrown mug or three - but nearby guards subdued the brawl quickly, shoving both men out of the tavern with curses and shakings of their heads.

Once things were calm again, I exhaled quietly, and turned to face the bartender, ready to continue our conversation, but my next inhale was cut short.

Welcome to my little restaurant.

a pirate-y limsan tavern, with a hidden meeting room