#ncegling

“I’ve learned to pay little mind to idle gossip, lest you worry. Though Ishgard certainly is not lacking for it.” Nella gave a smile, unable to be anything but amused at the way the gossip was so blatant on the lips of many high-borns yet somehow still said in hushed tones. She supposed the illusion of secretism was part of the draw.

Still, with the amount of times she’d heard Ser Aymeric’s name come up in gossip, she was surprised he wasn’t more concerned. Was he really so used to this? That was worrisome on its own.

Protective Sentence Starters || Still accepting

@ncegling​​ asked: “It’s too dangerous.” [ncegling] [y'shtola]

“Perhaps so,” Y’shtola spoke, her ears perked upon her head as she gazed blindly towards the place that had harbored Thordan’s ephemeral form. The aether still swirled violently in Azys Lla, her head tilted towards the elevated lands. Aymeric had come as somewhat of a guide for her, but now it seemed as if they had traversed to a point where the man was no longer able to feel any comfort in her mission. The signatures of power left behind by the felled Ascian was unmistakable and necessary for her needs.

A small shake of her head, the woman tilted her chin to peer up at him, lips curled upwards. “But it must be done. Dangerous or not, it is our job to take the plunge, as I have many times.” Some she had returned from on her own, some not. “It is for the benefit of others we take the danger on our shoulders, as we should for those who cannot bear it on their own.”

@ncegling​ said: “ i’d stay if i could, i promise. ” [ncegling] [velkyn]

morning after starters // accepting

     “Mm, I know...” The Miqo’te’s reply, slurred and deepened by sleep, is simple and tired, but the understanding is no false thing. He knows the Lord Speaker is busy, knows that Ishgard rests on those shoulders of his-- shoulders Velkyn had bitten the night before, he reminds himself with a smirk, thinking of the marks his mouth had left on the other man’s skin. He knows that Aymeric is devoted to his home, to leading Ishgard out of the dark and carrying the responsibilities that came with it. Vel can’t begrudge him for that.

No matter how much he wishes the elezen would stay in bed with him, just once.

     Velkyn rolls over onto his side, curling closer to the warmth of the other man even as he retreats from the bed. His uninjured eye cracks open, squinting against the light of morning that fills the room, and Aymeric is, as always, the only thing in said room worth looking at. Vel’s tail flicks beneath the sheets and he crawls his way into the spot that his lover vacates, small body curling into the warmth left behind. 

One scarred hand reaches out from beneath the covers and catches hold of Aymeric’s before he can move away entirely, lacing fingers together and drawing pale knuckles down to meet dark lips. Velkyn moves his kisses along the back of Aymeric’s hand to the pulse in his wrist and back down to his palm before allowing himself to let go. 

@ncegling​ said:  [ sacrifice ] for Aymeric to get hurt protecting Estinien [ncegling]

word prompts // accepting

     This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. 

Estinien is the one that’s living only to kill— living only to die trying— it should be his flesh that’s rended by fang and claw, his blood that stains the snow.

It should be his body that crumples to the ground, not Aymeric’s. 

The changes that have overtaken the other man in recent months have been extreme— the drinking has stopped, Aymeric has been putting forth twice as much effort as Estinien ever thought him capable of— but never would he expect the noble brat to throw himself between a dragoon and a dragon attack. 

Eyes of forged steel grow wide as scarlet soaks through azure and Estinien’s grip on his lance grows slack... 

     Before those eyes lock onto the beast before him, claws still dripping with Aymeric’s blood, and his hands become a vice. Every inch of his skin prickles as an ungodly rage washes over him like waves crashing upon a distant shoreline. His teeth grit and his bones tremble, his legs braced against icy soil as his ragged breathes grow unnaturally steady in the cold embrace of his wrath. Quick as a lightning strike, Estinien launches into the air with a roar that could rival any Dravanian, lance poised to pierce and take back the price of his own fumbling in blood.

He hurtles back to the earth, a silver meteor, and by the Fury, he burns. The dragon’s life splatters up his arms, following the shock of impact that rockets up the length of his spear as blade punctures scaled hide.

The beast wails and falls for the last time, Estinien with it. The dragoon lands flat on his back in a snow drift, but wastes no time in rolling onto his side and making his way to Aymeric. 

They’d survived the attack— now he just needs to get him home.

Dying rp Starters (Oh wow this is old but one of my favorites tbh.) @ncegling

Nella laughed to attempt to lighten the dour mood, but the sound simply came out as tired and perhaps too bitter on her lips.

Too much had happened too quickly. The alliance had initially won in The Ghimlyt Dark, but the Scions were all now asleep, called to another world entirely. She could still feel the tingle at her consciousness at the memory of the voice calling them. It was an odd sort of pain that lingered even now.

And now, they were facing the probability that Zenos had been dispatched again to deal with the alliance, and she and any others might too be called. Likely at the worst possible moment. And that, truly, was what she was most afraid of.

“Forgive me.” She said quickly. “I did not mean to sound as though I were mocking you. Nor did I mean to worry you, truly.”

The smile she gave now was apologetic, and the tingle of uncertainty was replaced with a different kind of tingle altogether that warmed her chest. Had that always happened when they spoke?

@ncegling​ said: "I want to make Ishgard a better place." The words came unprompted from Aymeric followed by a pause, a moment of hesitation. "... I cannot do that without you." [ncegling] [sid]

unprompted // always accepting!

Sidurgu raises his eyes from their usual spot on the table-- his table, as he’s made a point over the years to chase away any others who approached-- and lets them fix upon the man in front of him. There’s something in the pale green depths that burns when he levels and locks his gaze onto the Lord Speaker’s, pinning the man’s olive branch beneath deep-seated suspicion.

To his credit, the elezen doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t shrink back from being faced with the eyes of a dragonkin. Sidurgu supposes it shouldn’t be so impressive; the war is over now, after all, but for many that is still far from the case, himself included. He cannot forget any easier than the people of Ishgard, it seems. Perhaps that’s because he’s become one himself-- lingering within these walls like a ghost, even so long after he’d needed to.

Despite what the people of this city had done to him and his own, Sidurgu had spent nearly all of his years here. It was his city, as much as it was any of theirs-- a thought that makes a part of his stomach churn, but steels his gaze in turn.

    “That’s an interesting claim. I’m sure your fellows will be bloody delighted.” The Au Ra’s tail, too short for the rest of his body by far, lashes behind him-- a constant physical reminder of the countless things that had been taken from him, the tail itself being the least of them. Aymeric de Borel may be trying to better Ishgard. He may have even ended the war with the Dravanians...

    But how can he expect such a place to allow Sidurgu’s input when just recently, it could not even abide his life?

Protective Sentence Starters || Still accepting 

@ncegling​ asked: “You are not allowed to use yourself as bait.”  [koya]

Pale blue optics swung up towards the Elezen’s face as she flipped the tip of her spear upon her shoulder. Her fists were far more capable of damage, but the length given by the weapon was too good to pass up when it came to enemies that might take flight and move out of her range of attack. A pout came to rest on her features as she cocked her hip, tilting her head. “Why not?” She almost could have whined at him, brows furrowing.

“I get you got the defense, but if I smack them down and stun them, you can rush in and sweep them all up. Besides, I’m thinkin’ of picking up some of your moves, and how am I supposed to watch them in action if every creature on Hydaelyn is on you?” A smirk began to rise on her features, the lively fight stirring across them with elation.

Protective Sentence Starters || Still accepting

@ncegling​​ asked: “You could have gotten yourself killed.” [koya]

A hand gingerly rubbed the spot near her collarbone, pale optics staring at the ground, lips pulled taut into a thin line. If not for Aymeric’s quick thinking and the chirurgeon’s abilities, certainly the blow would have left more than a measly mark upon her skin. Ambushed within the snow laden lands, it had been Koya who had jumped to the front, pulling all their attention onto her to protect the Elezen from the onslaught, despite the fact that she did not have the armor to protect her as he did.

Nor a shield, her hands marred as well from deflecting the weapons as much as she could. All of that Aymeric held and should have been the one to take the brunt of it.

“I’ve been through worse.” She mumbled, letting her hand drop away. This was nothing compared to the pain of the Light fracturing her mind. The swell of a Primal’s rage. The loss of a friend to something she could endure in their stead. “It’ll heal, I’m good at that.”

Her body, despite the Hyur appearance, always seemed to recover much quickly than others. Even now as she spoke, the pain was ebbing, a blessing and curse all in the same mixture; to be able to take on whatever came her way and keep going, despite the damage to herself. It made her stronger, numb to the ache.