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Lost Odyssey • (dev. Mistwalker 2008)
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:3
There were few things more relieving to Lucia than finding out something that she feared would come to pass turning out to be completely incorrect. It was one of the few times she relished being wrong. So when she had a moment of sheepish concern and confided in the Lord Commander that she was now courting Captain Hilda Ware with the expectation of being told that she couldn’t— or worse, that she was wrong for feeling that way— she had half expected him to tell her that her position was not one that permitted such a relationship. When he frowned a moment, she had thought her fears realized.
“And this happened recently?” He asked— and her anxiety turned to curiosity when he began to pull out his calendar.
“But a fortnight ago, Lord Commander—” she scarcely got the words out before he grinned triumphantly.
“Which means I guessed correctly.” He said with a pleased nod, and put away his calendar. “And Handeloup owes me a box of sweets.” He seemed to chastise himself a moment, and amended, “which I will defer to give to Estelle, of course.”
“...Lord Commander?” Lucia asked.
“Ah!” He blinked at her. “You— you did not know we had a bet going?” When she shook her head he let out an embarrassed chuckle. “Forgive me; I had thought that was the reason you were informing me.”
“Does it...bother you?” She asked.
“That you are happy? Why in the name of the Fury would it?” He beamed at her. “I am delighted for you, Lucia.”
26. how dare [you]
[micro story meme] | [ask box]
Who knew what a traitor an organ could be. Aidan had no complete education on any one topic. Which wasn’t to say he didn’t know much; he knew plenty. But on most everything it was piecemeal, doled out in dribs and drabs. Never fully comprehensive, never complete. Just enough rope to hang yourself with, as his aunts and uncles would phrase it.
His heart he thought he knew better. It was his after all -- the same one he’d nursed through every joy and sorrow since he was a boy. From the mundane to the world shattering. He knew the weight it could carry, the strength it could bear.
When he turned his back on Adelais he felt the last bit of real warmth sputter out. He’d burned and been burnt too often for too long. He wasn’t sure how to process that; what did one do with no strong ties to person or place? She’d asked him about sailing to Eorzea only to find himself unwilling to do so. Why, after all? That Aidan was dead on the Flats. Who knew where his kin remained, if any did. No, that was a chapter closed. It could stay shut.
He only knew something about ending it chilled him in his bones. It was not the answer. In the meantime, he could play act well enough to avoid probing questions. No one would know you were made of ash if you smiled right.
⚘⚘👀
--she caught his gaze again. Her eyes burned him from the inside out. So, so green, and yet--
Inside that green he saw blue. An ocean of ice and azure starlight.
Something dangerous roiled within him but Emet-Selch forced himself to remain in the moment, despite facing in that moment a feeling very uncomfortable and very familiar--
Her teasing thoughtfulness reverberated: Is there any animal left in you, I wonder?
--A fight-or-flight response.
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ALSO 19
49: Already answered, sorry. 19: What do they think about before falling asleep at night? Failing. She runs the day on loop, searching obsessively for flaws she knows are there, for loose stitching that lets her tear holes in the fabric of her self-worth. It isn’t even a struggle for her anymore. She has too much practice. It’s so exhaustively familiar that she gravitates towards the same old wounds on instinct, like a shark follows blood in the water. Emil from the foundry thinks she’s an idiot. It’s her own fault, of course; she shouldn’t have needed to clarify what she meant to begin with, or failing that should’ve corrected herself immediately. No, she just -had- to let it sit there long enough to be awkward, like she’s blind and oblivious. She’s embarrassed herself again, and he’s going to cringe internally if his brainless coworker tries to make conversation. The only solution is to avoid him. And stop running her fucking mouth for once, or better yet, not fucking opening it unless she can’t avoid it. Wyda thinks she’s irresponsible and selfish. Did she seriously let herself be delayed and miss dinner? How hard would it have been to walk confidently out the side door and go home like someone who can actually care about other people? Yes, her coworkers would’ve hated her for making them deal with one last problem, but she would’ve alienated them soon enough anyway. Wyda’s probably (rightfully) complained about her to her friends, and their friends, and now the whole manufactory knows what a self-absorbed prick she is. Great. She deserves that, though. After all, she can’t even make it through the day without doing something stupid or saying something thoughtless and making everyone embarrassed that she’s there. Fuck, she doesn’t even walk into work looking like she works in an office and not a sewer. Not like a slovenly asshole with her scuffed boots and faded shirt, with her stupid hair that probably makes her look like a convict regardless of how she’s kind of started preferring it this way, her mangled ear, all the fucking scars-- The loop repeats. She’s tired enough from following it to finally drift off. It’s not as if she won’t pick up where she left off come morning.
40 - Any special memories? Do they have a special place they like to go to?
“I’m happy to share some more special memories! Let’s see...
I guess, uh... it was really awkward, but it’s still special! And kind of important. My relationship with Hilda didn’t blossom so much as explode into being,” Allie snickers, “and it started long before my feelings for Ysayle began. Hilda was always very open in keeping things casual, but even so... when I mentioned I had feelings for somebody else, I was very nervous! But I wanted to be honest, y’know?
Anyway, Hilda just laughed. I’ll never forget the day I introduced them to each other. It was surprisingly polite! I was so worried Hilda would offend Ysayle, or that they would argue and fight... but there I was, watching the two women I love talking amiably. It was great! I also remember it was really cold that day.
And, um... well, it’s safe to say they’ve had a few conflicts since then, but... well, I guess it’s like fire and ice, right?” Allie scratches her cheek sheepishly. “On the second question, another place Hilda and I love to visit is actually Summerford, in La Noscea! We rarely get to go there, since Hilda isn’t able to leave her work very often, but when we do... ah, it’s lovely...”
“Thanks so much for the question! I’m sure I’ll see you praying at Saint Reymanaud's Cathedral again soon, right, mister Feran? Stay strong!”
🌻!
Character concepts I’d run with if I had more free time or energy: an Eorzean food critic who visits any new cafe, restaurant, or bar opening to review the service. I’d even contemplated a blog with published review articles for each one.
