Destiney chewed on her lower lip as he finally admitted to part of what was troubling him. Saying she was sorry for his loss felt hollow. She knew the pain of that kind of loss. How much it hurt. Words seemed hollow in comparison.
There was an urge to hug him but knew he probably wouldn’t welcome the contact. Not that kind of contact. Especially in his current state. Instead she merely walked over to him and tried to lightly put a hand on his arm in a gesture of comfort. “Basteaux… I know words can not make this better… But I understand the feelings. Please don’t let this destroy you. I know we’re two different people. Yet I understand the rage and pain of that kind of loss. I was down that road when my father died to Imperials. Whatever you need right now… I’d like to be there for you.”
Every muscle tenses and Bast shifts slightly to move his arm away from the touch. There is no force in it, no raging strikes or violent brush-off; just a quiet rustle of fabric as he pulls away. “Going on four years,” he says, shaking his head. “I only found out recently. Between that bit of information and Briar, I don’t think–” he breaks off and reaches up to pinch the bridge of his nose and rub the inner corners of his eyes. “How I feel about it makes no difference. She’s long gone now. The world is the same today as it was yesterday, or last year, or five years past; I already made sure of that when I removed her from my life. I have no right to mourn a loss I already forced once upon myself.”
Inhaling quickly, Basteaux lets the breath out in one short, sharp gust. “I need to stop allowing myself to drink to excess, remind myself of my place in this, and go home. Your offer of comfort is made out of kindness, but it’s more than I deserve.” Self-pity doesn’t weigh his shoulders, he instead glancing down at her with a quiet sort of pained resolve. “Goodnight.”
If Dest had fur she would have bristled like an annoyed cat. Thankfully she didn’t though. Stubborn male. Should just let him walk away. Should just let him be an idiot if that was what he wanted to do. Instead she found herself standing in front of him. All six fulms of sassy healer now that nothing else had worked.
“Basteaux…” She huffed before pulling the book from her waist and bringing it up to bop him lightly on the head, yet hard enough to make a point. “That is -not- a healthy way to deal. She is your sister for Twelves sake. You have every right to mourn her, four years late or not. My brother ran away from us at fifteen. Had I found out he died in the years he shut us out I would have still mourned his pain in the butt anyways. He is family to me just as your sister is family to you regardless of whatever happened between you. You may not think you deserve kindness but you are going to get it anyways because despite what -you- think… I think you do deserve it. That maybe it is long overdue even.”
Lance
laughed softly at the reactions from the crows over a bit of bread. He
broke down the rest of the knight’s bread as he offered some to the rest
who had not been as curious as the first.
“Manners were important to play the games among the upper class. Yet
the modesty is something I learned from the men I served with over the
years. Especially at Steel Vigil.” There was a hint of sorrow in those
sky blue eyes before it was quickly gone again. Hidden behind a warm
smile once more. “Besides for me honor is more important then pride.
Something many have seemed to have lost over the years. That a knight is
supposed to protect those that can not protect themselves. Not cause
them further harm.”
His eyes widen a moment before he offers her a sheepish smile. “Not
saying you can not protect yourself of course. I meant… Never mind. I
should probably stop before I dig myself deeper shouldn’t I?”
She studied him carefully as he spoke and her eyes filled with amusement when he apologized towards the end. It was all within his words. He was an earnest man, taking pride as a knight…perhaps a bit too much? How to describe such a person? Not zealous…passionate maybe? He was quite proud of his duty, and yet such a person can easily be manipulated in multiple ways.
And not by the usual methods one would think.
But there was no use thinking about it, so she simply laughed and stood up. As she did the crows would look towards her and take off into the skies, and Svanielle would simply walk past him and gently pat his shoulder.
“All in the knight’s duty, wouldn’t you say Ser Lancefer?“
Lance relaxed a little when she laughed. Laughter meant she wasn’t offended. He still remembered the lecture one young woman had given him in the past over some of his behavior. Especially when it came to woman who could protect themselves despite their looks.
“Of course.” He gave her a sweeping bow and a confident smile at that. A bit over the top maybe but he found he didn’t mind being amusement for her. He liked hearing her laughter. “You are welcome to call me Lance though. Most do.”
Lance cast a glance at the sound of rustling off in a bush to his left. Unsure if it was one of Svan’s crow friends or some other form of wildlife, Lance kept one hand near his sword just in case but didn’t draw it. Carefully he parted the bush to find a small owlet with an arrow through one wing. Apparently their voices and the sounds of the crows had awoken the small critter as it still seemed half dazed. He was glad for having his heavy gloves on as he reached down to carefully pick up the owlet who let out a slight panicked screech.
“Easy there.” He could have put the poor thing out of it’s misery but he didn’t think Svan would approve very much. Not when she had so many crows for friends. He carefully snapped the arrow to better remove it as the owlet weakly bit at his gloved hands. He turned to look towards Svan after dropping the arrow into the snow. “You wouldn’t happen to be good at dealing with hurt wings would you? Seems some careless hunter or adventurer caught this little guy.”
Destiney chewed on her lower lip as he finally admitted to part of what was troubling him. Saying she was sorry for his loss felt hollow. She knew the pain of that kind of loss. How much it hurt. Words seemed hollow in comparison.
There was an urge to hug him but knew he probably wouldn’t welcome the contact. Not that kind of contact. Especially in his current state. Instead she merely walked over to him and tried to lightly put a hand on his arm in a gesture of comfort. “Basteaux… I know words can not make this better… But I understand the feelings. Please don’t let this destroy you. I know we’re two different people. Yet I understand the rage and pain of that kind of loss. I was down that road when my father died to Imperials. Whatever you need right now… I’d like to be there for you.”
To the followers who don’t say much: having you there still means a lot. Even if you never send in an ask or anything, I don’t care. I appreciate that you still follow me anyways. And it’s nice to see you there liking and reblogging my stuff.
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To all of my followers whoever you are: Thank you for hitting that button. Thank you for sticking with me. If you ever need a shoulder to cry on or someone to celebrate with you, I’m here for you! If you ever need something explained, I’ll answer as best I can.
Alex puffed on his lit smoke as he leaned back against the pillar and closed his eyes. By the gods his body still hurt like hell despite the healing Cotoka had done. More then that his pride still hurt too. Then again Soren had tried to gut him and slice him into ribbons.
He grimaced as the smoke got lower. Damn… They had been on him during his fight with Soren. Now they were partially dried with his own blood. He chucked the rest off to the side with a heavy sigh.
Aeri had come to save him when he called for her to help him. Even had her precious pet healer, Cotoka, fix him up. He should have been dead. Would have been had it not been for the two ladies. Soren had been enjoying taking his time slicing him up. The poison on those blades causing him as much agony as each blow itself.
Mongrel. That was what Soren had called him. Goaded him into a blind rage by preying on his hatred of his family. Of the things that had happened to him. Alex hadn’t even needed to say anything. Soren had either done his research or gotten lucky with that word punch.
Alex hadn’t felt this low in years. Though the naive nature of the younger healer had greatly amused him for a bit. He was going to have so much fun explaining slang terms to her.
Shouldn’t be out of bed. Yet he needed space. Needed solitude. The night in this part of the Goblet was good enough being that he couldn’t go very far with his injuries.
He had ripped open old scars in talking to Aeri and Cotoka. Not physical ones. A slight snarl on his face at the thought of the old wounds.
Yet Aeri suggested finding a different way to walk his path. To demand more then survival from life. To find more then vengeance. Could he really have what Aeri had found? He wasn’t so sure. He couldn’t even have Aeri as she had found another. There was no one to blame but himself. It had been so much easier to be hated and despised. Something he had grown so used to. What he had done in the past…
Kill the people who created monsters like himself. He could manage that. It at least gave him something to start with. A path for now while he decided what exactly he wanted. More then survival. More then getting the name of the shite of a father that denied him all those years ago.
He stood up with a groan at the aches and pains. Perhaps he’d go soak in the water again. Aeri was allowing him to stay for now while he healed. While he decided where to go from here. He couldn’t change everything but maybe it was possible to teach an old dog a few new tricks.
“Of course it is. Don’t lose heart when you’ve come this far.” She gives the woman a friendly pat on the back. “Someone has to protect those we care about. If not us then who? We are the shield for those we want to protect. So let’s give the enemy hell together. You’re not alone in this.”
“I know you’re right, but… It’s tough to hold on to hope and want to keep fighting, when it feels like it doesn’t really amount to anything. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
Sure, she was managing to protect Eorzea… But she couldn’t really protect the people that she cared about the most. It made it hard for her to want to keep on fighting.
“Even the darkest night eventually meets it’s end by the light of dawn. I know it’s tough and sometimes looks bleak. I’ve been there in my training to someday become a Sultansworn. Some times it is like taking one step forward and two back. Yet I don’t want my loved ones to suffer. I got a kid sister to protect. If you need someone to help you shoulder the burden then just ask. You have my sword and shield.”
Destiney didn’t show any sign of being afraid of him. Her hands were folded behind her back casually as she looked at him. Daisy fluttered off her shoulder to go plop her sparkly butt onto a nearby rock. Almost as if the fairy was giving the two of them space.
“Because I want to.” She said it casually as she looked up at the night sky and closed her eyes for a moment. She looks down at the water before crouching down to pick up a pebble. She plunks it into the water. “Do I need a reason to want to help someone or be their friend?“ Another pebble and another plunk into the water. Her voice dropping softly. “I know what it is like to want to be alone and isolated. The guilt and pain that eats away at the cracks in your soul. It’s in your behavior tonight. I can see the storm in your eyes.”
She blows out a sigh as she dusts her hands off on her pants as she stands up and looks at him with a smile. “Then again maybe I assume too much. Besides! Maybe I just have a weakness for beautiful music. Maybe I’m just jealous the woods get to hear it so purely and unaffected.”
‘I can see the storm in your eyes,’ Destiney says, and the rest of the world turns to white noise. The aforementioned eyes widen and Bast stumbles a half-step backward. It must be an inadvertently accurate turn of phrase. There’s no way she could know.
She keeps talking- as if her words have not already set him reeling. Basteaux struggles to comprehend her continuing speech, to cudgel his mind into properly hearing and translating sounds into words. He’s better than this. He can hold a proper conversation without going to pieces. Even intoxicated, he can do this.
“You may have some understanding of being alone,” he finally agrees, his smooth baritone cracked and jagged. “But this is not nearly so simple. Trust me when I say that I am not the man you seem to think I am. You’d do better to stay away from me, and I should know better than to allow you to have gotten this far. Especially if you see the storm in my eyes. That should be your direst indicator to run.”
A slight tilt of her head, a curious look in her gaze. Still no hint of fear or that she might turn and run away. Too stubborn for her own good maybe. Yet playing with other dangerous predators had seemed to numb her fear. Or maybe she didn’t really fear her own death. It was hard to say. Something she hadn’t really giving a lot of thought to.
“Basteaux… Nothing in life is simple. I’d be a fool if I thought that way. I have seen and been through so much in the last eight years. I appreciate your concern for my well being however… I don’t scare that easily. But…” She holds her arms out wide, her expression as calm as her voice. “Do not decide for me what is best for me. If you are such a danger then prove it. I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.” She moves a arm forward, almost extending the hand towards Bast as if to offer him her hand. Soft icy blue aether flickering at her fingertips. “I can protect myself.”
“The Basteaux I met… The Basteaux I see… Is strong. Yet I see something wrong as well. I just want to help. Because I care.”
“It is better for everyone that I do not ‘prove it’,” Basteaux replies. “It is not a lure I give into by choice.” As Destiney reaches toward him, the aether dancing on her fingertips, Bast actually recoils and takes several more steps away from her.
After a moment of watching the play of light on her hand, Basteaux lifts his gaze to meet Destiney’s. When he speaks it’s with more stability, although there’s a brittle aspect like they’re both walking a fine line. “What is magic to you, Destiney? Is it a tool? A means to an end? A drug that you need to keep getting a fix of to survive?” The change of subject is abrupt and the questions are anything but shy or tentative. Yet he still appears to be the one feeling fear.
Destiney hadn’t missed that recoil at her aether use. Her hand closed and the sparkling light vanished. His questions making her contemplative. Her hand opens again as she glances off towards Daisy on the rock. The sparkling fairy flutters over to the waiting hand, spinning about like a dancer.
“Magic is not a drug. Nor is it entirely a tool or a means to an end. Magic for me is life. It is not good nor is it evil. It is all in how one decides to use it. I am still breathing after I tried to kill myself because of the very magic I can now preform.” She smiles at Daisy as the fairy stops spinning to sit down on her hand, little feet dangling over the side of her hand and kicking in the air. “Daisy once worked alongside my Uncle and together they saved my life.” A small, soft smile as she moved her gaze from her companion to the duskwight. “I use it to heal. To save lives as mine was saved. I might still at times work with a bow as that day that we met. But my main profession now is as a healer. Yet Daisy is a product of that magic and I would never consider her a tool. She has her own personality. She is her own being. Much like the elementals that call the Twelveswood home.”
My muse is losing hope and slowly drifting towards the side of evil. Send 💞 to try to save them, or 😈 to encourage them! @nebula1984
Kheda looked up at the other, a saddened expression on her face. She wanted to give up, the trials she had faced becoming almost too much for her. However, hearing a little bit of support made her hesitate.
“Do you really think that it’s worthwhile to keep fighting, even after all this?”
“Of course it is. Don’t lose heart when you’ve come this far.” She gives the woman a friendly pat on the back. “Someone has to protect those we care about. If not us then who? We are the shield for those we want to protect. So let’s give the enemy hell together. You’re not alone in this.”
Spirit of the Warlock 