Just A PSA

Just a PSA

Reblog if you don’t ignore rps and asks but sometimes it takes you a while to think of a response, or you only have time to answer a question or two before doing other things.

FFXIV Writing Challenge 2024 Directory

Directory for the FFXIV Writing Challenge for 2024!

Day 1: Steer

Day 2: Horizon

Day 3: Tempest

Day 4: Reticent

Day 5: Stamp

Day 6: Halcyon

Day 7: Morsel

Day 8: Day of Rest

Day 9: Lend an Ear

Day 10: Stable

Day 11: Surrogate

Day 12: Quarry

Day 13: Butte

Day 14: Telling

Day 15: Day of Rest

Day 16: Third-rate

Day 17: Sally

Day 18: Hackneyed

Day 19: Taken

Day 20: Duel

Day 21: Shade

Day 22: Day of Rest

Day 23: On Cloud Nine

Day 24: Bar

Day 25: Perpetuity

Day 26: Zip

Day 27: Memory

Day 28: Deleterious

Day 29: Day of Rest

Day 30: Two Heads are Better Than One

Brynhorn Fiske, refugee, marauder, scout.

Art by the amazing @the-leyline-directory !!

Meet Brynhorn (Bryn) Fiske, an Ala Mhigo refugee who fled his home at 15 to avoid conscription into the Garlean army. He joined and trained as a Marauder in Limsa Lominsa, eventually joining the Maelstrom to help fight back against the encroaching empire and hopefully, one day, free his homeland.

He was on the battlefield the day Dalamud fell from the sky, and witnessed the horror Bahamut wrought on both armies. He barely survived himself, and was arguably a changed man after that horror. He also found himself burdened with a secret, a secret that left him no choice but to leave those he considered friends and lovers, resigning from the Maelstrom, leaving the newly forming Scions, and striking out on his own, to find himself, and how to control the beast inside.

Still, he had close ties with both the Maelstrom and other grand companies, often serving as an off and on scout for them, particularly in the snowy regions between Garlemald and Eorzea. That time is what made him hate the snow, despite his effectiveness in it. At the start of ARR, he is 30 years old, has served in the Maelstrom, and was personally given his rifle and now chosen weapon by Cid Garlond.

Fun facts:

Bryn's rifle is old Allagan tech, designed to draw aether from the user to form a condensed, aether bullet to fire. It was never mass produced since it took too long to form the bullet in a fire fight, but it is more accurate that the Garlean's gunpowder and metal based projectiles, making it the perfect choice for a scout.

When Dalamud fell, Bryn found out he had a bit of a hidden...power within him. Or at least he likes to try and frame it that way in his mind. It makes it rather hard on nights with full moons for him.

Show me your Blorbos!

Hey guys. I'm sick as a dog and don't have the energy to do much rn. Please make my day brighter by sharing pics of your blorbos, whether they're ocs or from a game/show/whatever! And maybe a little bit about them & why you love them? 🥺

It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

Heh?

What?

HUH?!

...It's been a year!?!

My mind has been blown...

Well, here is to many more!

Day 3 - Tempest

"The sails! THE SAILS!"

The Maelstrom occupied ship was a flurry of motion, rain beating down on the deck, wind whipping through the sails, and sailors sprinting from one end of the ship to the other, tying down ropes, pulling at the sails, doing everything they could to get the ship ready for the sudden storm they were forced into. Bryn was at the rear of the ship, standing with the captain on the quarterdeck, a frown on the sixteen year old's face as he watched the Garlean flying machines peel off from their attack runs, the winds too strong for them to continue following the ship. A small mercy for the mess they had just forced them into.

Behind him, he heard the creak of wood, the flap of furling sails, and the sound of wooden oars running out into the water from below deck. He turned back, the wind beating against his face and body, soaking through his already dripping pants and coat, striding across the swaying deck with the ease of a practiced sailor...despite it being his literal first storm. Grabbing the railing beside the young captain piloting the ship, hanging on to the helm wheel as he barked orders to men far his senior, but just as with the trip over, they all listened, just with a new sense of urgency now that a storm was upon them.

Well, most listened.

As the ship lilted to the side, sending a few sailors skidding across the deck until they could grab onto something, halting their progress towards the perilous sea, a wave breaking over the deck and drenching everyone on the lower deck. Including those huddled against and tied to the main mast. They were praying, even a few of the Maelstrom soldiers that Bryn had fought alongside hours earlier, screaming and crying and begging Llymlaen for mercy, to calm the seas, to save their boat. The black haired kid, barely old enough to swing an axe well, scowled, knowing full well that for every man or woman tied to those masts, the ship was down a pair of hands. Which prompted him to turn to the captain and yell over the rain and thunder to him.

"Where do you need me?" The look he got was one of annoyance, at first, before the captain recognized the red of his Maelstrom uniform, and his eyes turned thankful, taking a hand off the helm to point towards the foremast.

"We have to keep the sails up! If they unfurl in this wind, it will rip the mast right out of the deck! Then we are-"

"-dead in the water!" Bryn finished, the fresh faced teen nodding, and adjusting the axe on his back, already eying the sail that was unfurling halfway up the mast, nodding to the captain. "I'll deal with that one!"

"Ye better, if you want to live through this!" Always encouraging to hear, he thought dryly, and wiped the rain from his face as another crack of lightening split the heavens above. Slogging down the steps from the quarterdeck, another wave broke over the main deck, a terrified scream filling the air, and he could do nothing but hold onto the stair rail as he watched an unprepared sailor get swept to sea, his crewmates howling his name in fear as he was swallowed by the waves. His boots suddenly felt like lead, his hand white knuckled on the railing as he stared at the main deck, the few sailors still down there scrambling to tie off, to try and survive, forgoing their duties as he saw the captain start to lash down the helm wheel at center, preparing too for the inevitable.

Bryn had to move.

He had to get his feet moving and move.

His gaze lifted to the foremast, staring at the flapping sail, and took a another step down as fear clawed up in his throat-

Blinding light, a crack, BOOM, and splinters peppered the deck, sailor and Maelstrom alike howling in fear and pain, Bryn recoiling and landing hard on the stairs, blinking the flashing lights out of his eyes as he stared at his target. Or where his target had existed moments before.

Now, a creaking, charred, and slowly falling foremast stood, struck by lightening, ropes whipping in the wind, starting to drag itself out of the deck and towards the sea as the ship tilted dangerously with it.

After the fact, Bryn would swear he didn't remember it, but those who where tied to the main mast did. The remembered watching the burly child - a child! - sprint across the swaying deck, barreling through a crashing wave, unslinging his axe and cutting through a giant kraken tentacle, and with one swing, cleared the foremast like chopping a tree, and saved the ship! Mayhap it happened, mayhap it didn't, or maybe there really was only one embellished fact about the entire thing. But when the ship limped back into the safe harbor of Limsa Lominsa, the captain had personally requested to speak to the Maelstrom officer for the expedition.

"He saved the ship, you know." Shaky fingers were packing a pipe, and even shaker tried to strike a match, until the Maelstrom officer struck it for him, and lit the Captain's pipe. "Thanks." He took a deep drag from his pipe, and slowly blew it out, gaze flicking to the young man as he stood at attention a short way away with the remainder of his squad. "That young man...he's brave."

"Or foolish," the officer rumbled out, crossing his arms. The captain jerked his gaze back, glaring at the Maelstrom officer, and slowly shook his head.

"Do you know what the difference between foolishness and bravery is?" He tapped his pipe out, cleaning the half smoked tobacco and looking the officer in the eye. "Fear. Him? He was brave." And he turned, yelling at the repair crew already combing over his ship to "hurry up and get her sea worthy! We've got Garlean ships to raid!"

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