#resika

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

-screams forever-

LOOK AT MY GIRL. LOOoooook at her.

I finally got the finished piece back from @locke-rinannis from that giveaway they did a million years ago. (WORTH THE WAIT HOLY SHIIIIIT)

Top is finished image, the bottom is actually the preview sketch they sent me to ask for changes etc and I just fell in love with it as it was. Something about the slightly unfinished lines and the way it was colored was just so charming? (I’m going to admit I thought that was going to be the final form/style and I was already going nuts about it and then I realized that no, it wasn’t finished properly and I was like WHAAAAT)

But I’m also absolutely in love with the finished product. The little smile/smirk. The glint in her eyes. The little details and life it has. I can practically hear the little hum/giggle she’d be making in this expression. afkl dklafDSJALFSDfsa.

I’m floored and so, so happy! Thank you so much again, @locke-rinannis, for this absolutely fabulous, stunning gift of art of my girl. I can’t stop staring at it, and I’d have to say this is probably my favorite piece (pieces? SKETCH COUNTS)  so far. (I need to commish more of you fine art folks out there.)

Found a @captain-rez in the wilds of Ul’dah!

a wild @tiergan-vashir appeared! Not a great screenshot since we were both running off on our quests but hey! ( I love running into people in game <3 )

Was leveling Resika on White Mage the other day and took some fun photos at the end of Shisui. She’s got the 60 AF boots on and they kind work with it?

whee sparklies!

Bonus:

It had been a little while since she’d been to Little Ala Mhigo, but Resika was still welcomed with smiles from the refugees that still lived there. Quite a few had left for the resettling efforts, now that their homeland was free again, but there were still those that stayed behind - the old, the very young, those not fit for travel. Those happy with their place in the world, there in Little Ala Mhigo. Content with their life, fixed on bettering it right there.

As usual, she brought with her things of use. Donations of all kinds. Gil, medicine, materials for building and crafting. Books and toys. Good quality clothing. Things that were not easily obtained by the refugees. Granted, they were no longer as poor as they used to be, not with the influx of aid from all over Eorzea towards the push to retake the Ala Mhigan homeland, but they weren’t suddenly rich, either.

But they were standing on their own two feet nowadays, slowly getting better each day, moving forward, growing. The people were still wary of handouts and charity in general, but she was a known face after all these years, safe. Generous and kind, to be trusted. It was a hard earned trust, and she always did her best to keep it, to foster it, both for herself and for others - if they were as receptive to others as they were to her, they’d grow even faster. Quickly reach the point where they no longer needed to accept the aid they sorely needed now. The thought made her smile, she hoped she would see that day very soon.

Resika stood in the kitchen, nervous. She had spent a great deal of time on this project, learning this new recipe and having many trial and errors, and she was about to show her latest attempt to the person who’s opinion she valued most (beside her own). She had brought it over earlier in the night but kept it secret, not telling Vhaso’a what it was - it would be a perfect surprise for this moment, after how thief evening went.

When Vhaso’a finally entered the kitchen, tying a robe closed at his waist, he sat down at the table and smiled at her indulgently, motioning for her to continue. “Well, let’s see it! You know how I am with chocolate.”

She blushed and smiled, then turned and drew a small yet luxurious looking chocolate cake from his fridge. If one were to hold it, it would feel heavier than it looked like it should, for such a small cake. She brought it to the table, then fetched the usual plates and silverware, as well as a cake cutting knife.

She started the first slice nervously - it had felt the right way when she picked it up but....

A sigh of relief as the knife slid through the silky, very dense flourless chocolate cake. No signs of crumbly bits, no air pockets. Just rich, thick chocolate goodness. It was perfect. Now all that was left was the taste test.

The slice was served up on a plate and offered to Vhaso’a, and Resika stood by waiting, excited and nervous, to see what he would think. She had already heard his impressed hum of approval just from looking at it.

Now she wanted to hear him hum in pleasure at the taste.

“So? Tell me what you think...”

The biting, frigid winter air slipped through her layered clothing as Resika appeared in Ishgard, and she shivered. Already her face felt like it was made of ice, and she’d only been here for seconds. Hunching up and tucking her hands deep into her pockets, she hustled towards her destination - Skysteel.

She’d come across a problem with her gun and needed an expert opinion. The help of the master himself, if he’d be so kind. She wasn’t worried if he was in his workshop - of course he was. He practically lived there. She remembered when she had stayed in Ishgard for a while, working with Stephanivien, learning the trade and craft of being a Machinist - she’d found him sleeping in his workshop more often than not. 

The time there had served her well, and in her time away she’d even had some thoughts about the creation of their weapon of choice, and intended to discuss them with the man after she fixed her problem. She also wondered how he had gotten along with that crazy idea she had seen him working on shortly before she had left Ishgard for a while - a shrapnel canon, was it? She smiled at the memory, as she arrived at the doors to the manufactory. She pushed inside, and then reached into the bag over her shoulder and fished out a small parcel - which had sweet dried fruit pieces in it. She wandered a bit, waving and smiling to familiar and unfamiliar faces alike.

“Stephanivien, heeeeey. Guess who’s back? I brought treats.”

Resika whined quietly to herself as she rustled through her closet - she was running a little behind schedule. She was due for a meeting with a vendor who wished to work with her on some projects - he had some problems procuring high quality materials that were in demand, both raw and manufactured, and had heard Resika was rather capable as a crafter and as a gatherer in certain areas. They hadn’t talked much but from what she understood his previous supplier had suddenly raised their prices to an unacceptable level and they hadn’t been able to come to terms. But he had seen Resika’s work in the market, and needed some of the things she routinely gathered, so he proposed they meet and come to an agreement where he would pay her a fee for her services and materials she provided, and also offer her a small cut of the profits he made selling anything with her mark on it. 

She paused in both her thoughts and her movements, her hand falling on a particular outfit. It was off to the side, and she never wore it. Instead she had saved it, a token of a time she was so proud of herself she nearly burst with it. Fingers ran down the fabric to run over the seams and details, finally finding their way to the embroidered thread that marked her brand. It was the first time that she had produced something while working for Vhaso’a that he had proclaimed she should put her mark on it, next to his. That her work was good enough for such an honor. It was when she really had started to think better of herself, hold stock in herself, validated herself - his acknowledging of her skill springboarded her into new heights, both in skill and her own self-worth, her own self-validation. She’d come a long way since then.

The sense of pride, of validation, that had flooded then her came back now, and she flushed in happiness, her lips curving into a wide grin.