#galvusz

@galvusz || x

Fandaniel did not know what had happened or what was about to happen. Not having things under control bothered him. And quite a bit. He needed a new body at once and to find a way to break his soul. Or he could always let the body stop responding to be reborn. Ah… No. If he did that he'd forget all about it again. How annoying.

He opened his eyes slightly, wanting to observe who had picked him up. Puzzled, he realized it was Zenos. He guessed he would end up killing him in the end so…. He decided to close his eyes. He didn't feel like acting at that moment. Maybe later, if he managed to wake up one more time.

@galvusz

Thancred would often say that he had stared Death in the face and lived to tell. Facing death was one thing, however - facing his fear was an entirely different matter.

He had his hand raised and ready to draw Lionheart when he felt the blade of Zenos' scythe just beneath his chin, threatening to pierce his skin at any given moment. He clenched his jaw as he lifted his gaze to meet the Reaper's, an icy shiver running up his spine. Laying on the charm might not be so easy for this one.

"No, I suppose not," Thancred replied, his tone laced with venom and snark. "Had you been able to see past your desire to fight the Warrior of Light, I imagine we could be exchanging more colorful banter by now."

     𝐈𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐫𝐞. 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭.  A  moons  long  search  brought  to  its  conclusion  with  the  destruction  of  the  eyes.  Whilst  for  others  is  it  a  new  beginning.  A  nation  knowing  at  last  the  taste  of  liberation.  They  still  celebrate,  so  much  music  and  revelry  even  now,  days  after  their  victory.  Along  the  darkening  horizon  can  he  espy  the  many  campfires,  the  number  of  them  blinking  in  the  distance  he  might  confuse  them  for  stars  come  early  in  the  night.  

           In  one  camp  might  he  join  them  and  be  welcome  with  enthusiasm  that  has  him  chaffing  against  the  very  thought.  He’d  left  Ishgard  ere  the  celebrations  could  begin  in  earnest,  he’ll  not  find  himself  entangled  in  what  passes  for  such  in  Ala  Mhigo.  

    Thus  does  he  turn  away,  determined  to  depart.  Where  to?  ‘Tis  a  strange  thought  to  be  so  empty  once  more.  Much  like  the  people  of  this  land  is  he  free.  Yet  bereft  of  purpose,  he  feels  only  lost.  He  picks  his  way  across  the  barren  fields  beyond  the  city,  still  littered  with  the  aftermath  of  battle,  like  to  remain  so  for  years  to  come.  Fallen  wreckage  and  bodies  all,  some  still  aflame  and  spewing  acrid  smoke  into  the  night  air.  He  gives  one  such  a  wide  berth,  the  heat  of  it  scalding  even  at  a  distance.  

Vincent’s eyes widened and his ears flattened again his head, a mixture of fear and confusion in his eyes. Zenos was suddenly so close, his hands clasping around the Miqo’te’s calloused fingers, and oh gods, he’s leaning closer-

Send 🤲 to cradle my character's face in your muse's hands.

@galvusz

Thancred scrunched his nose as he felt gloved hands slide across the skin of his cheeks, forcing his head to tilt upward to meet Zenos' gaze. He was tempted to outright bite his hand, but he settled with simply staring him down, waiting to see what the Garlean was going to do next.

They’d been at sea a while, long enough that it was high time they made port and saw to it that their spoils were fenced and the gil lined their pockets. One of the newer recruits had been rather vocal of late about how they wanted out too and the Miqo’te was looking forward to being rid of that headache.

Port was in sight, the crew were on deck and there was an energy about the place that was infectious as they watched the port grow larger on their approach.

Good food, good drinks, good company and more all awaited them once the ship had docked and Maru was no less immune to the rising excitement than any of the other crew aboard the ship. His tail swayed behind him as the ship was made ready for port and though he too should have been bustling about packing a bag for shore leave, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from home port.

He was no stranger to being at sea, quite comfortable walking the rolling deck but there was always something special about making landfall after so long away. He could not wait to sink his teeth into some lightly cooked meat for his first good meal in days.