FFXIV Write - Day 9 - Fair

FFXIV Write - Day 9 - Fair

Early ShB spoilers

Halone's frozen tits, this is the FUCKING worst. Celeste groused to herself, massaging her feet with oils after yet another long day in the Crystarium.

None of the other Scions decided to remain here, I've become the errand girl for the Crystalline Mean, and to add insult to injury, I'm not even here because I was WANTED or NEEDED. I was just a bloody casualty in the Exarch's attempts to reach his real target, Xander. Because of course it's Xan. It's bloody well ALWAYS Xan.

She threw aside her gauntlets in disgust as she recalled the sheer reverence in the Exarch's voice as he 'apologized for the inconvenience of her summons' and told her of his intentions to bring the Warrior of Light across the Rift. Suppose I should consider myself fortunate that he even knew who I bloody well was, though hells if I know how he knew of me. But GODS, this isn't FAIR.

She flopped back on her well-appointed bed in the Pendants, staring at the ceiling. Even despite the curtains she'd drawn shut, Light leaked into the room, all but blinding to her bleary eyes. Can't even have the decency of calling me directly, and now I'm run off my feet just trying to help the city run smoothly.

[You could just say 'no'.] Fray's familiar voice rumbled from the corner. [You're under no obligation to help these people. This isn't your world, and they're not your concern. You could just while away the hours until your comrade arrives.]

Celeste sighed at her other self's words, laying her forearm over her eyes as she delivered her rebuttal. "No, I can't. My world or not, it's where I'll be living for the foreseeable future. And these people need my help. Plus, I'd be bored just waiting around for Xan to drag his arse over here. And, well... if he doesn't show up..."

While he'd been sparse on details, the Exarch told her when she arrived that her Blessing of Light would be crucial in the days to come, should his summons fail again. Which meant, more than likely, that if Xander didn't show up the next time the Exarch tried his little 'expanse contract, eon become instant' ritual, that she'd become the linchpin to his plans to save the First. If he didn't arrive, then the burden of saving this world would fall upon her.

The thought of truly carrying the world's fate across her shoulders alone sent a chill down her spine. If she wasn't up to the task, how could she ever face all the people she'd volunteered to help since her arrival here? How could she face the Scions? Herself?

...is this what it's like for Xan, I wonder? All this running about like a headless dodo and this relentless pressure to perform acts of heroism?

She shuddered.

Maybe I haven't been fair to him. All this time, I thought he just got off on the plaudits and the praise and all that rot. That he loved soaking in the attention being THE 'Warrior of Light' got him. ...but maybe, in his heart of hearts, he feels as scared and alone as I do right now...

Considering that possibility made regret squeeze around Celeste's heart like a vice. Though she'd long since forgiven him his priggish behavior before entering Ishgard, and he'd done likewise for her behavior after their arrival, she'd not really let go of her resentment that he'd stepped forward as the face of the group. A face that wouldn't have been nearly so charismatic without her help in tailoring his approach to his audience.

Him stepping into the healer's role and offering his critiques from his limited experience only solidified Celeste's anger and bitterness at being replaced within their merry group. And that wasn't fair to him either, when he'd simply wanted to expand his knowledge base and offer assistance. Then again, it hadn't been fair to her to expect her to simply accommodate him changing roles on a whim back then, either.

As her reflections on the past gamboled over one another in her head, a knock on the door startled her from her thoughts.

"M-Mistress Celeste? I was told to come and fetch you post-haste. You have a comrade waiting to see you at the markets."

The duskwight all but catapulted herself from the bed at the hailings of the elezen- elf, they were called elves here- who worked the front desk. She didn't dare to hope, to believe that it might actually be him, but she had to see.

She threw on some clothes and offered a hurried apology to the young lad as she barreled right past him and charged full-tilt for the Musica Universalis. She only stopped running when she passed the Market Board and saw a familiar head of blond hair seemingly having a little chat with Bragi, jotting notes down in that ever-present Codex of his.

When at last he finished taking his notes and took his leave of Bragi, Xander paused in the busy marketplace, staring right at Celeste as if in disbelief.

She didn't know who started running for the other first. All Celeste knew was that she had her arms wrapped tight around her friend while he practically sobbed into the bodice of her dress.

"...sorry- all my fault- here because of me and it's not fair-!"

As Celeste ran her fingers through his carefully styled hair to comfort him, the thought she'd tried to keep buried for nearly six moons came rushing forward to stab at her heart. If we don't succeed here, then he's going to die.

As unfair as her circumstances were, as much as she bitched and moaned about being dragged into this entire affair, Celeste knew one thing for sure: Abandoning her friend to die in whatever future Urianger glimpsed from the Rift would be the most unfair act of all.

And she would never allow it to happen.

FFXIV Writes Day 4 - "Off the Hook"

End of ARR spoilers, messy friendship dynamics, and relational drama.

Finding himself at the epicenter of a dwindling circle of friends was, unfortunately, not a new experience for Xander. He'd been through it many times before, especially before the Calamity, before he had the courage to live as his true self. The names and faces of those old friends had faded into the fog of memory, but the hurt their abandonment and betrayal seared into his heart remained. Remained and flared as he watched Iori stalk off in the middle of the night, proclaiming that he would focus on the true threats the star was facing- the primals- rather than allow himself to become distracted by petty geopolitical maneuvering.

Xander couldn't help but take offense at the auri man's description of the Crystal Braves. Yes, the organization was in its infancy and needed a lot of refining, but the idea was born of pure intentions and was not simple, petty politics. It wasn't, Alphinaud had grander ambitions than that.

Celeste's abrupt departure just after the conclusion of NOAH's investigation into the Crystal Tower hurt even more. When Iori left, Xander had been expecting it- he'd never seen eye-to-eye with the man. But Celeste, his ally, his confidante...

All the elezen left behind was a note.

"I think it's best if I go my own way for a while. Be able to help more people that way. Sorry. -C"

No direct words of confrontation, no litany of reasons why she left. Just an apology and silence. Now, M'hana was the only one left at his side as things in the wider world kept worsening. Rumors of dragons swarming the skies above Ishgard filtered to the Scions, prompting action.

Yet, they still had moments to breathe, moments of levity. Which is why, within the crystalline wastelands Mor Dhona had become, he and his miqo'te companion had set up camp beneath the stars.

After assisting the locals with some rampaging hippogryphs, Xander wandered back towards their campsite with weary step and heavy breath. The only thing that gave him some pause was the familiar sunny chattering with which M'hana filled the air. That she was talking to someone via linkpearl was obvious, but who...?

"...Oh come on, he's really not that bad."

Xander lurched behind a convenient crystal to keep himself out of sight, his heart dropping in an icy pit to the depths of his stomach. He didn't want to assume, and yet he couldn't help the inescapable suspicion coiling around his gut that she was talking about him behind his back.

A suspicion confirmed moments later when M'hana continued, oblivious to her eavesdropper, "No, seriously, Xan is fine. I get why ye left Elly, I really do, I know he was sort of shoving ye out of yer main 'thing' for the group. And- okie, I'll admit yer right, he can be a bit of an arrogant prick just like the Leveilleur boy can, but it's not that bad hanging out with him."

His heart squeezed, an old, familiar dread settling into the marrow of his bones. Dread, followed swiftly by seething resentment. So, Celeste answers HER linkpearl calls but refuses to answer MINE. And M'hana stays in touch with her behind my back, likely PRESUMING that I wasn't like to take it well if I found out...

"..and to be honest, Celeste? I feel kind of bad for the man."

Thump.

"I mean it's pretty obvious he never had many friends growing up."

Thu-thump.

"And it cannae be easy for him right now, handling all this shite on his own. I sort of pity him, y'know?"

Dread and festering resentment seared into rage. Xander's veins and eyes both felt ablaze as that ever-familiar word, 'pity', dropped once more from the lips of someone he trusted more than any other. Pity, sympathy, oh-don't-you-just-feel-so-bad-for-them, look-I'm-a-good-person-for-befriending-them. That's what it was. That's what it always was, never that they valued him, never that they enjoyed his company, oh no. It was always pity and usefulness that drove them.

His fists clenched at his side, his teeth grinding as he tried his damnedest to keep treacherous tears from falling down his cheeks. He stalked over to their shared campfire, M'hana's blithe and cheerful wave only stoking the fires of his fury.

"So. So. You pity me, huh? Is that why you stayed?"

The Sun Seeker's smile shrank by several molars. "...ye were listening in on the linkpearl call, then?"

"Answer the question."

She rubbed the back of her neck, tousling silver hairs at her nape. "I mean, no? Kinda? Not really? Look, it's sort of complicated-"

"Do. Not. Lie. To. Me."

M'hana shrank back as he stepped towards her, brows furrowing in a pained expression as she replied, "I wasn't! I'm not. I- fuck's sake, Xan, I didnae mean it like that-"

And there it was again. The same gormless, spineless excuse. Xander could practically feel the venom in his words as he spat, "Oh, I'm so sorry to have misinterpreted you, then. Pray, tell me then, how exactly did you mean it when you told Celeste you 'felt bad for me'? That you 'pitied me'?"

M'hana worked her mouth wordlessly for several moments before settling into a defeated pout.

"What's the matter? Coeurl got your tongue, Hana? Or are you just scared to admit the truth?"

She sighed, her expression uncharacteristically serious as she rose from her seated position and set about gathering her things.

"Oh. Oh, so you're just going to leave too? Too much of a coward to even bother answering me? I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, coming from the woman who hid behind the mask of her dead husband for moons and ran away when the world needed her most after the Calamity."

M'hana's body tensed, and Xander felt a lash of regret strike against his heart for those unspeakably cruel words as soon as they left his mouth. He recoiled, expecting for her to lash out in return, to shout with all the fire and fury he deserved for such a comment.

Instead, she kept her voice level. Annoyingly serene. "Look. I tried to give ye more of a chance than the others did, all right? But ye've clearly got some stuff that needs sorting out in yer insides, and ye know what? I'm comin' to realize it en't my job to help ye with it. I'm lettin' meself off the hook. Best of luck with the Braves, Xan. Ye and Alphie are gonna need it."

And before he could say anything else, the aether around her warped to whisk her away, leaving him alone by the campfire.

"...You're 'letting yourself off the hook' from helping me?" Xander murmured, incredulous for a moment before his voice rose to an echoing scream. One that he knew had no chance of ever reaching its intended target. "Well that's FINE! I never needed you! ANY of you! Filthy, parasitical leeches, the lot of you, riding the coattails of the Warrior of Light until he was no longer of use to you! That's just fine, I'm letting all of you off the hook from ever dealing with me again! I don't need you! I don't need ANYONE!"

His last scream echoed for what had to be malms for a moment before he collapsed to his knees, burying his face in his hands and letting out the sobs he'd been holding in. Bravely as he proclaimed it, with as much cruel certainty as he spoke those words, Xander knew himself for a liar.

He couldn't do this alone. He couldn't. Not when a confrontation with the Father of Dragons laid ahead of him. And so, when he'd finally managed to wrangle his emotions back under control and obtained a fitful night's sleep, he made a quick call in to the Scions for some adventurer backup. He would need the assistance to scale the wreckage of the Agrius. He could only hope that they would prove competent enough to handle the threats before them.

I'm having a great time

Adhd will have you too burnt out to eat or shower but give you the hubris to decide you can homebrew an entire d&d system on the back of a receipt

This hack will save your teeth: there are no “right” and “wrong” times to brush your teeth.