This moment from my playthrough keeps coming up with friends, so why don't I share the time I accidentally did Aymeric so dirty with my outfit choice for the dinner scene.
So for those of you not aware, my WoL is supposed to be a sweet Thanalan country boy type. Think desert Clark Kent-vibes man but from the burning cliffsides of Thanalan instead of Kansas. And I play a paladin besides, so of course my mildmannered Lambard went through most of Heavensward looking like this:
Covered head beard to toe in steel.
But of course, when Aymeric finally invites you do dinner, that won't do. Showing up in armor would just be impolite! So I pull my ff14 bestie in for an emergency glam sesh trying to figure out what a traditional thanalan lad might wear to a fancy occasion. We end up putting this together, which I was quite pleased with!
Straight Oughtta Ul'dah looking outfit. Looks good right? It's fancy! It's traditional! It's in-character! It's just perfect.
Bit chilly for the road there, so we figure he would have used the supplied Ishgardian coat on the way there. (I didn't get a screencap of that in time sorry)
So I slam the glam on just before the cutscene and go in happily unaware of what I'm about to do to this poor catholic boy and he greets us in a similar coat to what we got... as indoor wear. Which really should have been our first warning of what was to come.
Anyway, we come in and if you, unlike myself, are a nice, observant allosexual, you might already spot the problem.
Because as it turns out, Lambard's beautiful Ul'dahn coat has one major issue when being sat at this type of dinner table.
That being that between the coat and the table, there is now a perfectly triangular window towards the BIGGEST, FATTEST pair of sword-swinging steel-carrying hobby-mining sun-kissed pair of tits to ever grace the frozen lands of Ishgard.
Keep in mind that our poor Aymeric hasn't been lord speaker for long at this point, he's yet to leave Coerthas completely (as far as we know) on any diplomatic missions. He was recently still the knight-commander, polite son of the Pope, from the isolated lands of French Warrior Catholicism, who's grown up and only ever seen tall spindly Elezen people, wearing 50 layers in -oof° degrees celsius weather all day every day every month whole year.
EDIT: It had, in fact, only been 5 years of -WillToLive° outside, thank you @maeljade
And now he's sitting at a private dinner, doomed to look at THIS
for several hours whilst his elderly butler, last remnants of family he has, hovers about the whole time serving that appears to be unseemly amounts of wine
And I took
SEVERAL
HOURS
after the cutscene to realize what I'd done to this poor man.
... Though in my defence, my ace ass was busy laughing my head off at the reaction they give your WoL to the butler mixing you a cocktail.
