May 15
A trade must take place for this life to enter the world.
Caro Claire Burke, from Yesteryear
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A trade must take place for this life to enter the world.
Caro Claire Burke, from Yesteryear
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04-06-26 | coralmakerpost. Misterlemonztenth.tumblr.com/archive
Title: FFXIV Write 2023 - 15. Portentous Characters: Thancred Waters, Y'shtola Rhul, Yda Hext Rating: Teen Summary: Thancred has trouble with language. And maybe a few other things. Pre-1.0 Notes: The idea of Y’shtola helping young Thancred with the more formal language of Sharlayan is one I am borrowing from @autumnslance
Thancred arrived at the Last Stand with an exaggerated sigh, falling, more than sitting into his seat, letting his arms almost flail with the motion as he did so. He smiled faintly as Yda giggled in response.
“And how is young Master Waters finding Sharlayan today, then?” she asked.
“Brain-picklin’ ‘orrid, Yda, I don’ know how you tolerate it,” he said, dramatically flopping back in his chair and holding his arm across his forehead. Yda laughed some more.
“Cor, you put on a convincing mummery of being the queen of drama when you put your mind to it. Thinking about changing your study focus, then? I suspect espionage requires some talent to put on a show, but to see you lay it on so thick, well! I think you might’ve missed a calling to a traveller’s troupe.”
“My life is just SO 'ARD, Yda,” he exclaimed, and she continued laughing in response. “My new master’s a real - wait. Hang on.” He sat up suddenly, looking around, paranoid. “Is this one of 'is tests? You have to tell me. Is he going to come out and get my bottle?”
Yda, still amused, just shook her head at him, and he relaxed back into his chair. “…an’ Y'shtola’s provin’ to be a real taskmaster as well.”
“Oh?”
“Aye. How many words does a body need, anyroad? In Limsa, we don’ spend Gil on words what don’t need it, but she’ll spend a 'unnert Gil on a two-Gil word an’ call it bein’ precise. Precise, sure. Precisely a pain.”
“Well, I think you’re doing great. You don’t clip your words nearly so much as you used to. You did let a bottle slip a moment ago though.”
“Nah that was on purpose. Still. She’s not 'alf as bad as Papalymo, but still she can be fussy. Sit up straight, chin up, speak from th’ chest, tack back-”
“I’m not sure what that means.”
“-and did I mention all the words? Sure we’ve got some jingo back home, but here - like prodigious. Big word, I thought you just used it for big things, like look at that Roegadyn, he’s got a prodigious -”
“Thancred!” said Yda, before letting out a peal of laughter.
“But apparently it means 'eliciting amazement’, so you could also say the same if 'is member were tiny, right? Or like right now, my face when I’m learnin’ all these words. I apparently should be chagrined. Which if you’d asked me last sennight, I’d thought chagrin was one o’ the Bismarck’s fancier dishes.”
Yda continued to laugh heartily as he went on, before she seemed to finally get herself under control and watch him keenly. He quickly sat up a little straighter.
“Ah, but, of course, I am learning. It is taking some time, and perhaps a bit of difficulty, but with such an excellent teacher, of course, I think there may be, shall we say, 'hope for me yet’. I may yet learn to put many such important words to use, such as, ah, defenestration, lugubrious, feckless, and so on. With enough work, perhaps I too could sound as appropriately portentous as any proper Sharlayan.” He leaned back in his chair, to look up into the faintly annoyed expression on Y'shtola’s face. “Why hello Y'shtola.”
She put her hands on her hips and glared down at him for a moment before reaching out to flick him soundly on the forehead. “You are using a less common definition for that word, but I suppose I shall accept it. Your attempts at flattery are hereby noted and ignored.”
Thancred just rubbed his head as she walked over to one of the empty seats and sat down primly with her lunch, while Yda fell back into giggling.
Prompt #15 Portentous
Handmade Heaven - MARINA
It was mid afternoon, Sen stood hesitating on the door way to her mentor's home. Her hand hovered over the handle, she knew she didn't have to knock to enter. She wore a comfortable loose sleeved green shirt, with a grey skirt, her redwood cane strapped to her back.
Sen had been practically hiding away at Gaelicat's Rest, the quiet inn halls were often hers alone to relax in. She felt safe from outside forces.
Now she had been dreading this talk for what felt like ages now, she had made the decision, clutched in her other hand was her military commendations letter - it was in of itself portentous of her future, what awaited her. Success in misery.
But... she made a promise to her... girlfriends...?
If you asked me today if there was a single action, one event, that might have changed the course of what followed, I will unfailingly point to this: the day you broke into that Kazivar House and let curiosity bid you stay, when a wiser man would have fled. But you did not, and so I call this the beginning.
Jenn Lyons, from The Ruin of Kings
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. . . the hope that all of us are travelling through concentric rings of knowledge towards some greater truth. And beneath that hope, the biggest lie: that things are getting better. Portentousness is only retrospective.
Chris Kraus, from I Love Dick
You are not meant for heaven, says the Devil.
Soman Chainani, from Beasts and Beauty
I remember things, and I have waited for you.
Tanith Lee, from Red as Blood: Tales of the Sisters Grimmer