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ffxv_kinkmeme2017-03-01 05:21 am
ffxv_kinkmod) wrote in ffxv_kinkmeme2017-03-01 05:21 am
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Prompt Post
Welcome to Round Two of the FFXV Kink Meme!
CLOSED for prompts | OPEN for fills
Please have a look at the extended rules here.
The important rules in short:
Please direct any questions or report any problems to the Ask a mod post.
Prompt, write, draw, comment, and most importantly have fun!
(You can also check out our Pinboard for Filled or Unfilled prompts)
UPDATE 3/2/2017: Per the Rules thread: Do not hijack prompts. If someone posts a prompt for one pairing, don't comment to say "I want to see this for [other kink]" - post your own prompt for the other kink). To that end, if you are unclear on a prompter's kinks/DNWs, please feel free to ask about them. If you ask about kinks/DNWs or to clarify a prompt, you are in no way obligated to fill it.
Additionally: Do not repost prompts from the previous round in their entirety. By this we mean copying and pasting prompts without any changes. If you see a similar prompt to a prior prompt, that is not a repost. Obviously prompts that are reposted per the above rule do not count either. (After all, they will be similar but not the same.)
ROUND TWO IS NOW CLOSED FOR PROMPTS!
Go ahead and keep on filling away, we will open up round three for prompts at 0000 EST, Saturday April 22, 2017.
CLOSED for prompts | OPEN for fills
Please have a look at the extended rules here.
The important rules in short:
- Post anonymously.
- Negative comments on other people's prompts (kink-shaming, pairing-bashing etc.) and personal attacks of any kind will not be tolerated.
- Don't be an asshole.
- One prompt per comment. Warnings for common triggers and squicks are encouraged, but not required.
- Prompts should follow the format: Character/character, prompt.
- Keep prompts to a reasonable length; prompts should not be detailed story outlines.
- Fills should have the word "Fill:" at the start of the subject line.
- Otherwise please avoid changing the subject line.
Please direct any questions or report any problems to the Ask a mod post.
Prompt, write, draw, comment, and most importantly have fun!
(You can also check out our Pinboard for Filled or Unfilled prompts)
UPDATE 3/2/2017: Per the Rules thread: Do not hijack prompts. If someone posts a prompt for one pairing, don't comment to say "I want to see this for [other kink]" - post your own prompt for the other kink). To that end, if you are unclear on a prompter's kinks/DNWs, please feel free to ask about them. If you ask about kinks/DNWs or to clarify a prompt, you are in no way obligated to fill it.
Additionally: Do not repost prompts from the previous round in their entirety. By this we mean copying and pasting prompts without any changes. If you see a similar prompt to a prior prompt, that is not a repost. Obviously prompts that are reposted per the above rule do not count either. (After all, they will be similar but not the same.)
ROUND TWO IS NOW CLOSED FOR PROMPTS!
Go ahead and keep on filling away, we will open up round three for prompts at 0000 EST, Saturday April 22, 2017.
Rogue Queen of the Lucii
(Anonymous) 2017-03-26 07:43 am (UTC)(link)Maybe Regis is telling Noctis a story about her, maybe her soul is able to talk to Noctis in her tomb or through the Ring, maybe it's full on pastfic.
Re: Rogue Queen of the Lucii
(Anonymous) 2017-03-26 02:01 pm (UTC)(link)(I gotchu anon, it might take a whole tho)
Re: Rogue Queen of the Lucii
(Anonymous) 2017-03-27 08:16 am (UTC)(link)Re: Rogue Queen of the Lucii
(Anonymous) 2017-03-28 05:45 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Rogue Queen of the Lucii
(Anonymous) 2017-03-29 01:08 pm (UTC)(link)FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [1/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-03-29 03:29 pm (UTC)(link)***
A young child is tucked into bed, his father, the King, sitting by his side.
"Can you tell me a story, father?"
The king obliges, acknowledging their moments together were becoming rarer with all his responsibilities. He presses a kiss to his son's forehead and snaps his fingers, little magical puppets filling the prince's eyes with awe.
"Of course, my son. Let me tell you the story of your ancestor, the feared Rogue Queen, who wielded a star made of steel forged by a dragon's breath. Her name is lost to the ages, but I hope you’ll find this exciting all the same."
***
There was once a young girl who was the daughter of royalty. She wore the finest silk and her hair was adorned with jewels. She could have anything she wanted, but she held her family the closest to her heart.
The Emperor, was a kind ruler, treating his servants with respect and ensuring the working common folk had their needs listened to in court. Her three brothers were each decorated soldiers in the imperial army. The Empress had died in childbirth and a shrine was placed in the courtyard under a tree that bloomed once a year.
The young girl sat under that tree one day, next to the shrine, feeling amiss.
"Mother, the land is prospering. The crops this year yielded good harvest and the working animals in the fields are healthy. But I have a bad feeling."
The wind tousled her hair a little and she smiled, as if in understanding.
"You're right, it's probably nothing..."
She heard the footsteps of her oldest brother approaching, sandals crunching against the gravel. Turning towards the sound, she bowed her head in greeting.
"There's my little sister! Come, there's dirt on your clothes and father would like you to be presentable for the Harvest Feast tonight."
"There's dirt?"
She fiddled with the sleeve of her robe as she followed her brother inside the palace. Servants immediately ushered her to her chambers and began bathing and dressing her. She did feel like it was a little strange that she couldn't be trusted to dress herself but it was what she was used to and that's how it would always be, probably.
After her hair was pinned and the servants were gone, she brought her hands to her face. Powder.
'Hopefully my face isn't white as a ghost!' She mused.
Gathering her bearings by touching the chair by the armoire, she stood up and walked towards the door frame, ensuring she took slow steps. Making her way towards the grand hall where the feast was, she felt a chill down her spine. She turned, the tense feeling gone in an instant. She then chalked up her paranoia to her hypersensitivity.
Returning to her original route, she gracefully entered the grand hall.
"Ah! My daughter," She felt her father's warm hand on her shoulder, "You are just in time."
She eventually found herself in the company of warlords from neighbouring lands. The Harvest Feast was a banquet for all dignitaries and she could always identify what region of origin they had from their boisterous laughter and accents.
The servants were out of sight at this time, only seen serving food. It seemed to be going well, until she heard a loud noise, as if someone was banging on the double door leading to the foyer. Having to play the subservient maiden in front of the guests, she rushed over, taking care not to trip over the hem of her dress and pulled the door open.
"You must run... assassins..." it was her middle brother. There was a ragged breath in her ear as she felt a weight collapse into her arms. She heard metal clattering onto the floor. A sword. There was also... something thick and wet between her fingers, her mouth opening in a silent scream.
“To arms!” her father yelled, his royal guard's weapons materialising into thin air.
It all happened in an instant. A strong hand grabbed her wrist, pulling her away. She heard many swords being unsheathed and felt the something slice the air around her. Arrows. Tears welled up in her eyes. She had no idea what was going on and her senses were being overloaded with the noises.
The stranger suddenly stopped as she heard tatami (a servant’s room?) under her feet and she bumped into his back.
“I don't know if I can protect you all the time on our way out of the city. So have this."
Recognising the voice, it was her youngest brother who had taken her away from the fighting. She felt a cold weight in her hand. A dagger.
"The Warlord from the North is here. It's not safe anymore, he has the palace surrounded by assassins. He intends to take the seat of the Emperor for himself. We let our guard down." she heard the anguish in his voice as he continued, "No matter what happens, I want you to run. As the youngest of our royal line, you must survive."
She had many questions but nodded, shivering at the implications. Her brother scooped her up in his arms as the princess had become barefoot in the scuffle and the pair used a secret passage to escape into the night.
***
"Then what happened?!" The young prince was excited instead of tired at this point.
The king chuckled, a twinkle in his eye.
"I believe it is time for you to sleep, Noctis. Maybe if you eat your vegetables tomorrow night I'll tell you the rest of the story."
FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [2/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-03-31 04:37 pm (UTC)(link)***
They almost made it to the edge of the city by dawn, uninterrupted, even with supply stops, when they were confronted by the warlord’s lackeys.
“Brother, brother, why did we stop?” the princess felt her feet touch the ground and the unmistakable hum of summoning magic. A fight.
“Run now! Get away from here!” she did as she was told, understanding the gravity of the situation.
The young warrior ran forward, unsheathed his katana and slashed into the closest enemy. It wasn’t the cleanest cut due to his inexperience, but his opponent crumpled to the ground. He turned, narrowly blocking another attack from his left, the clash of metal reverberating through the air. Pushing back with enough force to stagger the attacker, he slashed downward, blood spilling from the lackey’s wound.
Holding her skirt, she held a hand out in front, ensuring she didn’t run into everything. The princess felt dirt against her feet, acknowledging that there had to be a path into the surrounding forests somewhere. It seemed that she didn’t cover a lot of distance, when she felt a rough hand grab her by the hair. She screamed in surprise, her brother looking towards her direction in concern.
Taking advantage of the distraction, the enemy cut her young brother down and it felt as if time stood still. She heard the sound, clear as day, a sickening sound of metal slicing through flesh. Gasping, she thought about her humble family and how they were not prepared for an attack, how they had a false sense of security.
How they treated their subjects kindly.
How they did everything to shelter her from the world. How she was powerless to defend herself. Defend them.
“There are always those who want power.” She recalled her oldest brother saying. “But the Gods have always smiled down on the royal family.”
Fury welling up in her heart, the princess yelled angrily up at the heavens, kicking at her assailant as he dragged her away.
“I swear revenge! I swear revenge on my enemies! I demand an appearance!”
It seemed one of the Six had answered her call.
A loud crack and a blinding light split the sky apart. She squeezed her sensitive eyes shut. A sudden torrential downpour started as she heard the wind howl violently. Laughing maniacally, she felt a white hot heat engulf the ground, hearing the screams of her enemies as she was let go. Lightning. She wept, rainwater mixing with the tears on her face.
“Raijin…” she whispered into the morning light.
***
“Which one of the Six is Raijin, father?” asked the curious prince.
“We know Him today as Ramuh, the Fulgurian, sharp as Lightning. The Astrals have had different forms and names throughout time.”
“Sounds unnecessary.”
The king smiled.
***
She felt as if her body was weightless, like she was drifting in an endless sea. The world was still as dark as the day she had her sight robbed from her and she thought herself dead until she heard a voice.
“Young one of the Lucis Caelum lineage, you must reclaim your stolen birthright. Such an outcome was not foreseen. But man is unpredictable as he is foolish.”
“Lucis Caelum…” she repeated, “That is not the name I know.”
“But it is yours all the same. You are one of many descended.” The disembodied voice replied.
“I only wish to avenge my family. My honour swears on it.” She had little care for titles, she felt as if she had her brother’s blood on her hands still.
“You will see that what is intended for you will align with your goals.”
“So be it.” She hissed bitterly.
Gasping, she woke up, feeling her surroundings. Under her hands were plants, long stalks with a feathery top.
‘A wheat field. Must be outside the city. I don’t remember there being wheat fields nearby.’ She dusted herself off, with a clear conscience.
She knew what to do, the being who spoke to her in a dream made itself known as The Dragon King had instructed her to first find Masamune, the greatest Swordsmith in the world, gather allies, retrieve a crystal and her father's ring. Feeling the weight of her brother’s dagger tied to her belt, she released it and allowed herself one more tear.
‘Thank you for taking care of me. I will take matters into my own hands now.’
Part of her wanted to wither away and let loss consume her, but she could not rest until she brought her family’s murders to justice. The fire burning in her heart was far stronger than her grief. Taking the dagger, she sliced her chignon off, the hair falling around her. Feeling the wind and the sun at her back, she gained her bearings and started towards the forest that the Swordsmith was sure to reside in.
Knowing she was being guided by the same Gods who had not intervened in the deaths of her family, she felt anger and uncertainty in her path. Her foot caught a branch and she fastened a cane out of it.
***
“She would not call for their help, as her hope had wavered- Noctis?”
The king, noticing that his son was asleep, placed his hand in his raven hair, ruffling it gently as he pulled the covers over the small body.
FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-04-01 12:23 pm (UTC)(link)“Oh, did you now?”
“Yeah! It said that her Kingsglaive and court were all commoners.”
“That is right, do you wish to hear the rest of her story from me?”
“You tell it the best dad.”
***
Masamune was a stubborn old hermit, with rather archaic views. He had preferred living away from civilisation and opted for living on a cliff by the ocean. Getting there was the most treacherous three days of her life, but she was willing to see her revenge through.
“Just because you have the favour of the Gods, it doesn’t mean I’m going to make you a weapon.”
Pulling his pipe out of his robes he took a long drag, eyeing her up and down, assessing her appearance. A soft round face, no muscle to speak of, hands that have never seen a day of work and a walking cane.
“You are unworthy. You are just a royal who has been sitting in the palace getting fat am I correct?” He huffed, stroking his beard.
She balked, unused to such an attack on her character.
“If I am unworthy then tell me how to gain your favour! You must make me a weapon.”
He turned his nose up in disgust, despite knowing that she could not see him do so.
“Impossible for a woman such as yourself.”
She straightened her back, her conviction strong.
“Yes, I am a woman and I am blind, but not stupid. I will do whatever it takes.”
He turned, disappearing inside his small house, not wishing to deal with her any longer.
“I will sit here until you take me in!” she yelled after him.
One night had passed and when it was time for tea in the morning, he opened his shutters and saw her sitting there. He closed his shutters and pretended he was none the wiser. The second night had passed and he found her flipping a dagger between her fingers. He narrowed his eyes and returned to his meal. On the third night, he looked out his window, wondering if she had given up by now. Rain was pelting down on the small house and water had come in from some holes in the ceiling.
‘I should patch those up.’ He thought to himself before he slept.
Much to his surprise, he found her sleeping on the front porch the next morning. Making a frustrated noise, he nudged her with his foot.
“Come inside. I have a job for you to do.”
Sleep deprived and with frayed nerves, slowly she felt around for her bag with her meagre possessions in it and stood up. Focusing on the sound of his footsteps against the old wood, she followed him inside. Feeling some stray hair in her face, she brushed it aside, remembering where she was. Masamune the Swordsmith’s home. Next to the ocean.
Despite the fact that he was rude and prejudiced, she had a purpose and she needed all the help that she could get. It was difficult staying outside for three nights but she kept going, remembering the lengths her brother took to keep her safe. She was not going to be the frail blind girl that everyone else thought she was. Swallowing her pride, she bowed to where she sensed Masamune was standing.
He grunted in acknowledgement and led her to the back of the house, handing her a broom of some sort.
“This is my guest room. It has not been used in a decade, so you must tidy it yourself if you wish to stay. After you are done, I shall familiarise you with the house and the surrounding area. If you really want me to make you a weapon as much as you say you do, you will earn your keep.”
She nodded, “I am in your hands now.”
He walked away then, mumbling something about “Becoming too soft for his own good.”
She breathed a sigh of relief, immediately regretting having done so. Coughing, she swiped her finger against the doorframe. It was very, very dusty. Finding her way to the bed, she set her bag down and got to working, hoping she wouldn’t run into any spiders.
The next two weeks continued on like this, the princess doing odd jobs around the house, while the Swordsmith worked on her weapon. She was to make tea and cook rice in the mornings, burning herself on the stove many times until she was able to get it right. Once, she knocked over a vase whilst dusting the living area, but she caught it mid-air.
Every second day, she would make her way to the well and collect water in two heavy jugs, shouldering the burden. It went without saying that she tripped many times and had to re-do the trip, but she didn’t let it stop her. By the end of the second week, she had memorized the rickety path and felt that the burden was lighter. Sweat dripping down her brow, she worked and worked, improving her self-sufficiency through manual labour.
***
Masamune saw Bahamut in a dream, many times throughout the week. It was as if his hand was guided by the Gods themselves.
***
Finally, the day had come and the old Swordsmith sat her down in a room she was not allowed to go to- the room that was full of his creations. She was made known to this by Masamune tapping a stick against some of his swords, the sound reverberating through the room. She bowed, hearing the Swordsmith sit in front of her and unravel a cloth.
“I am but a Swordsmith and this weapon came to me in a dream. Lately, I have been wondering to myself why I would create something for a person with no combat training to speak of. But then I realised that you have a warrior’s conviction. A warrior’s drive to pursue your goals.”
He took a deep breath and continued, “I bestow upon you my most unique work, a Shuriken big as an arm’s length, made of the finest materials. With the blessing of the Dragon King, may it split the heavens in half.”
“Thank you, Swordsmith.”
She held her hands out gingerly, not wanting to be cut on its edge. It was heavy in her hands and true to Masamune’s words, it was an arm’s length. She was in awe, running a finger over the intricate markings, feeling like the Shuriken was made for her. Gasping, it disappeared in her hands and she felt a thrum of magic flow through her. Masamune coughed, slightly surprised. He had heard stories of Royalty and their ability to summon weapons at will, but had never witnessed it.
Composing himself, he stood up, knees feeling like they would buckle. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, after all.
“Now do not be throwing it at anything, this Shuriken can split in two and you will need to find a tutor who can teach you in the arts of weapon handling. I cannot, however help you with this.”
***
“It was then that the princess had to execute the second part of her plan: find a combat tutor in her allies.”
“So the Star of the Rogue was made by the legend himself and she didn’t know how to wield the power of the Crystal?”
“Yes, if you paid attention in your history lessons you would know all about Masamune. Also, the Royal family did not believe that she would need to know how to fight and summon weapons as she was blinded as a child.”
“Sounds kinda unfair, dad.”
The king tucked his son into bed, realising it was getting late once again.
Re: FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [3/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-04-06 06:29 am (UTC)(link)FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [4/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-04-07 04:27 pm (UTC)(link)***
Noctis, now a young adult, pauses in front of the Rogue’s tomb. Feeling leaves crunch underfoot, he turns to his companions.
“Can I have a moment alone?”
His face must have been serious, as his retinue nodded without question, walking back to the spot where they had felled a treant. Fishing the key out of his pocket, the young king unlocked the tomb and stepped inside. Wrinkling his nose a little at the dust, he noted that the air was cool and it was completely silent, save for his breaths. Approaching the final resting place of the Star, he hesitated in absorbing its power.
Could he commune with the one who wielded it so long ago? He was but a boy when his father had started the story of the Rogue and yet he was unable to finish it, with his burdening responsibilities to protect his people. Selfishly, he was eager to know the end of her tale, but he didn’t know if it was out of curiosity or to hold on to the memory of his childhood.
Closing his eyes, he felt the spark of the crystal’s magic within as the Star was absorbed into his armiger. After the tell-tale ringing sound of the ritual being complete, his eyes snapped open, overcome with an agonising pain in his head. Hands flew to his temples as he screamed.
“Greetings, Young King.” a feminine voice beckoned to him before his world went dark.
***
Guided by the Gods, the Princess found herself in a small village with a monk temple. She sought refuge at an old woman’s house, which she soon understood why she was guided to her. The woman, who called herself Tomoe, had served in the imperial guard and had imparted her combat wisdom to several people before her. It was a wonder to the princess as to why she hadn’t keeled over yet (the princess had to begrudgingly massage the crone’s feet and noted that they were full of age old callouses).
The princess was made to wake at dawn, where she would meditate with Tomoe for an hour and then work in the fields with the monks. The continued for days until Tomoe was satisfied with her discipline. She was still made to wake at dawn and meditate for an hour, but then she was made to practice weapon stances over and over until her arms and feet hurt. The old woman pushed her arms with her cane to correct her stances. It was irritating, but she felt like her enemies back at the palace wouldn’t be merciful on her so she was attentive when she got any criticism, verbal or non-verbal.
One particularly hot day, the princess tripped on a rock for what seemed like the umpteenth time whilst practicing her stances. Feeling tears of frustration, she felt like she was getting nowhere in her quest for vengeance. Kneeling in the dirt she clenched her fists, she didn’t have the chance to properly mourn her family and now she had been doing menial tasks for strangers and Gods, having to prove to them over and over that her blindness was not what defined her.
Feeling a surge of energy she held her hands out in front of her, feeling a heavy weight in her hands: the Star.
The old woman had ceased training early that day, noticing the young girl’s foul mood and the pair sat in the small house, tea between them. Tomoe said nothing, opting to place a warm hand on her shoulder. The princess took deep breaths, calming down from her hysteria earlier. Sipping on her tea, she focused on the warmness spreading within.
***
“Why are you showing me this?” Noctis questioned.
“You wanted to see the end, did you not?”
A woman dressed in the simplest black fabrics crossed her arms at him, her inky short hair and brown eyes the only defining characteristics he could see, as the rest was shrouded behind a mask. The eyes had a playful twinkle in them, which was familiar and stranger all in one.
***
The princess sat in peasant’s robes, in a large teahouse back in the capital city. When the sun was the highest in the sky, she would come to eavesdrop on the patrons, in order to gather intelligence on the palace. She had spent a whole summer training with Tomoe, remembering her words.
“A calm mind brings forth a steady hand. Act as if the weapon is a part of your very arm. Be careful who you trust in this world.”
The old woman had given her the name Sayuri, after her granddaughter, to serve as an alias whilst navigating the city. She couldn’t be too careful, after the downfall of her family.
“Hey, did you hear the rumours?” Sayuri made sure to pull her famer’s hat over her eyes.
“That there’s a big banquet going on next week signalling the day that power changed hands?”
One of the patrons scoffed, joining in with the conversation.
“More like the anniversary of the Royal family’s murder.”
There was a hushing sound from many others, as if what they were discussing was the highest form of taboo.
“Whatever you want to call it, they are looking for young girls to perform at the ceremony. I heard the Emperor’s second in command enjoys the company of young ones especially. Brings them into his chambers and everything.”
Laughter was quietened when a fist slammed on the table.
“Are you drunks going to talk about something less disgusting? Go train for the tournament, you’re scaring away my customers!”
Sayuri pondered the exchange. She could painstakingly try and get the attention of someone in the palace leading to performing a dance in front of the dignitaries, or she could her new skills to use by competing in the tournament, as she heard that the winner would be invited to the banquet, regardless of social status. Renowned warriors from all around were going to be present, after all.
The teahouse was placid once again, the iron lady of an owner seemingly kicking the rowdy patrons out. She remembered fondly how she had a distaste for dancing lessons and so she decided she would access the palace by being a revered tournament champion. Despite knowing the palace’s interior intimately, she knew that the place would be guarded tight. Breaking in was just not an option at this moment.
Placing coins on the table, she stood up, determined to find her way to the arena in order to sign herself up. Her chances at infiltrating this banquet were favourable, seeing as people were more likely to drink and therefore easy to catch off guard.
Re: FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [4/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-04-07 06:39 pm (UTC)(link)FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [5/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-04-08 01:17 pm (UTC)(link)“Stupid officials and their rules, who do they think they are…”
Shaking her head, she made her way to what she assumed was the registrations desk. The princess didn’t have the time to speak as the man at the desk dismissed her immediately.
“Sorry, lady. There are no more seats available to spectate the tournament.”
Huffing, she pushed her hat down over her eyes, voice commanding.
“I want to compete.”
The man choked and straightened.
“R-right! Well you’re in luck, there is a vacancy, one of our fighters just dropped out of the tournament.”
Sayuri nodded, inquisitive.
“Was that the unruly man that just passed by here by any chance?”
“Yes, well I suppose not everyone is chalked up to be in the competition. Go upstairs to your left, the Promoter should be present. Ask him any questions you need.”
With that, Sayuri took a few steps to the left and moved forward until her cane hit the end of stairs. Ascending slowly, she took in the sounds of the arena. Cheerful music was playing, loud drums, cymbals and the shamisen. She heard firecrackers, giggling companion girls, the clanking of glasses at the bar and plates being stacked on top of each other. It was a lot to take in, seeing as her time in the palace was mainly quiet and stiff.
Sayuri smiled despite all the hardships she had come across in the past year. She was never allowed to be outside the palace save for the rare times she had sneaked out with her younger brother. She had experienced cooking for herself, cleaning, working the fields and gathering supplies. Walking towards her destination, she ran into some cloth banners, slightly disoriented, but summarised that she was going the right way when a jolly voice called out to her.
“Ah, you must be the fresh challengist!” the Promoter had a very welcoming aura but she was confused by his strange talk.
“Don’t you mean ‘challenger’?” she crossed her arms.
“Now now, it is not my fault if you cannot comprehencise the intricastix of my sophisticated speech.”
Sighing, she ignored the urge to correct him, learning that she needed to compete now and this moron was free to make a fool of himself as much as he liked.
“First things first, what is your name?”
“S…Sayuri.”
The Promoter stamped his foot on the floorboards, seemingly unimpressed with her answer. Startled, she straightened her robes a little to hide her nervousness.
“We need something excitable! Something that really gets the crowds going. How about, Sayuri of the Closed Fist? Raging Dragon? The Whispering Blade?”
She smirked, coming to a decision instantly.
“Let’s go with The Whispering Blade.”
***
Her first bout against a group of martial arts students went swimmingly, as expected. She found out from the Promoter that the tournament worked in tiers, from Bronze to Gold. She would have to face challenges of increasing difficulty and then the champion of the tier, in order to move on. Before her fights, she made sure to pull her weapons out of her Armiger, away from the prying eyes of civilians. The princess had to make sure that she did not use any of the unique skills of her bloodline, lest she was found out.
She climbed the ranks, her mind wavering from the calm she had built. Sometimes, it was difficult to hear what direction her opponents were coming from. The loud cheers and instruments threw her off balance, but she persevered against trained mercenaries, twin fighters from the South, advanced martial arts students and even tamed beasts from the Badlands. Her progress didn’t go unnoticed by the corrupt officials however and they had a plan for her.
Sayuri was making plans for her fight against the Silver champion, hissing as she felt the curatives work their magic. Her last challenger was a foreign woman who wielded flaming chakrams and she had gotten too close to the fire when she had parried her. Sighing, she flexed her fingers ensuring the burns had disappeared and bandaged her wounds. Taking a sip of her water flask she wiped her brow of sweat.
Thankfully, with every win she had been given gold for entertaining the spectators.
“Whispering Blade! There has been a change of plans. You are to face a different challenge instead of the Silver champion!” she recognised the Promoter’s voice.
“Who ordered this?”
“The Taskmaster. He is… a generous contributor to the arena.”
Thinking nothing of it, the princess made her way to the ring, the door locking behind her. After all, what was another fight to the top? Snapping out of her thoughts, she listened attentively for her introduction, noting it was a different voice from the usual announcer.
“Now do I have a surprise for everyone here!” his voice was smooth like honey, which betrayed something else, “It has been exciting that our newcomer has such ease with her opponents, but does she have the mettle to make it into the Gold tier?”
The crowd went wild as she heard the metal gate on her right open.
“I give to you Whispering Blade, versus one never seen before, the Ayakashi!”
Sayuri felt her blood grow cold and the hands around her dagger tremble. Every fibre of her being, her magic, was telling her to run. She had experienced this feeling of dread once, when she was a little girl and had strayed too far into the woods. It was the unmistakable presence of a Daemon.
Somehow, she was glad she couldn’t look upon the hideous creature before her. It was unnatural, an abomination of nature. Something that should not be. Taking deep breaths, she fell into a familiar guarded stance. No teleport-striking, no calling upon strange entities, she just had to trust in herself and her dagger.
Re: FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [5/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-04-08 07:20 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [5/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-04-10 05:45 am (UTC)(link)FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [6/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-04-14 12:53 pm (UTC)(link)***
If there was something to be said about daemonic encounters, it was that the magic allowed her to see it as a sickly ball of red light in her mind’s eye. Still, she was unsure of its abilities or if it would corrupt her with a touch. Daemons were practically unheard of in the city, due to the brightly lit wall that surrounded it. She herself did not fight any in her travels as she made sure to conduct her business in the daylight.
Hearing the creature move, she was willing to keep her distance until she knew what it was capable of. Suddenly, she felt something hard scratch her cheek, the wound stinging. Raising her dagger, she made a weaving motion, ensuring that she deflected the rest of the projectiles away from her face. Jumping out of the way, she caught one in her hand and ran a thumb over it. The daemon was throwing coins, the familiar texture helping her mind make the connection.
Distracted momentarily, she barely rolled out of the way, feeling the distinct rush of air from an unsheathing katana past her. The crowd gasped and she hated to think how close she was to the blade. Gathering her momentum, she ran at the edge of the arena, kicking off the wall and striking at the Ayakashi’s shoulder, eliciting a cheer from the crowd. Removing her dagger from the creature, she pushed off and skidded backwards, planning her next move.
‘Daemons can use weapons?’
A small dagger wouldn’t be enough at this point. Analysing her situation, the daemon was most likely a corrupted general that wasn’t laid to rest correctly, sensing the rage and evil seeping from its body. Wielding a katana, the creature would have a range advantage whilst her close combat weapon would be too much of a risk to use. Sweat sliding down her brow, she realised she was frightened. Wiping it off, she breathed in and out, focus was the key and she needed to use the Armiger.
In order to disguise her magic, she turned with a flourish of her robes, pulling off her hat and throwing it into the air. When she thought the crowd was sufficiently distracted, she pulled off her robe, summoning her star from under it and splitting it into two. The princess would have to make quick work of the daemon, as she felt the skin on her face burn and curl away from the wound.
Sayuri ignored the whistles coming from the observer’s stands, feeling indifferent to her naked upper body. She had never seen her own body before, she felt none of the unnecessary societal shame.
‘Act as if the weapon is a part of your very arm.’
Remembering her mentor’s words, she swinged her right arm in a graceful arc, throwing the first shuriken, following the motion by thrusting her left arm in front of her and releasing the grip on her second shuriken. They cut through the daemon with ease as it hissed, returning to her hands. Unrelenting in her assault, she rushed at the creature, twirling with her arms out, slicing it like a whirlwind. She yelled, ferocious, bringing the star back into one, pinning the daemon’s midsection to the wall.
Throwing her dagger in the air, she spun and kicked it, the blade landing squarely in the creature’s throat. It dissipated, the red glow of light she saw vanished and she deemed it safe to move. There was a stunned silence, until she gathered her robe, hat and weapons and left the arena. The cheers of the crowd followed her out.
She really needed medical attention.
***
The Promoter was cheerful, the fight having drawn a lot of interest- and gold.
“Most impressive, Whispering Blade! Here is your cut from the fight. You have now moved to the gold tier, congradulations!” he exclaimed in his strange made-up words.
Sayuri frowned as she pocketed the coins, touching her cheek. The skin was on the verge of going necrotic, until the curing elixir she had administered just moments before worked their magic. It was disgusting to think that they had shackled daemons in this place, ready to be unleashed on fighters for entertainment. Dark magic- an evil that snuff out the spark of life in a heartbeat- it was too cruel.
“I will be back later to accept my next fight.”
She did not wait to be dismissed by him, for she was feeling uneasy and needed a break after her ordeal. Wringing her hands, she thought about passing by the delicious smelling noodle stall next the inn nearby. Being careful not to trip down the stairs, she thought about her purpose and how the greed and boredom of man would lead to shackling unnatural horrors in the capital. The air felt lighter, the further away she walked from the arena.
Finding the noodle stall and settling herself in a stool, she was about to order when a large, muscular man sat next to her and loudly greeted the cook. Pursing her lips in annoyance, she just decided to wait until the pair stopped exchanging conversation to order.
“…and, bring me another bowl for my new friend here!” she jumped, unsure if she was being addressed.
“Saw you fighting in the ring today. Was sad that the Taskmaster put you up to the daemon fight.”
‘Ah. Probably a spectator who saw my breasts earlier.’
Sayuri turned to the voice, acknowledging the man’s presence, preparing to staple his hand to the stall if he tried anything sleazy.
“Ah, you might know me already. Seen me around the ring, yeah?”
“I have not.” she laced her fingers together nonchalantly, facing him fully. Just a fellow competitor.
The man sputtered, recognising the meaning behind her milky white eyes and she couldn’t help but giggle, making people uncomfortable was amusing in its own right. The cook placed the noodle bowls in front of the pair, eyeing them strangely. Delicately, with the poise of a royal, she slurped her noodles up silently as the man devoured his bowl in embarrassment.
Time had passed and it would seem like he had something say, as he had shifted in his seat uncomfortably many times.
“W-well! I think your fighting style is very elegant. Nothing like I’ve seen before. You’re in the gold tier right? I would love to face you in the ring.”
She thought it nice, that her fighting style had turned a few heads in awe.
“Your accent. Where is it from? Do you always buy noodles for pretty girls?”
The man huffed at her comment and then formally introduced himself. His name was Amicita and he was the cousin of the current head of the warrior clan from the west. The Amicita clan had served the royal family in the capital city in the past and he had come here with some clan representatives to discuss trade agreements at the banquet next week. He himself had partaken in the tournament to find a purpose, because he felt that he would find it there.
Listening intently, she thought it interesting that the royal family had servants in other lands.
“What does your clan pride itself on?”
“Well, we boast strength mainly, wielding the mightiest broadswords. The scriptures say the Gods gave the first Amicita the power to lift mountains.”
“Curious. What does bashing skulls in a tournament mean about having purpose?”
“I don’t know, but I have a hunch. To your earlier question, I buy noodles for the competitors I want to get to know.”
***
“Amicita… You had a shield?”
The Rogue smiled.
“Eventually.”
Re: FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [6/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-04-22 01:17 am (UTC)(link)FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [7/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-04-24 02:59 pm (UTC)(link)“If you need me, call for Mountain Rock.”
The two parted ways, as Sayuri was set on becoming tournament champion as soon as possible and Amicita had some training to do. The Promoter greeted her cheerfully, his eccentric way of speaking giving him away immediately. Her introduction into Gold Tier was different, as to entertain spectators. She had to dodge flaming arrows for a minute. It seemed simple enough, until they flew past her ears. Suddenly it was a year ago again, her father’s voice ringing out across the hall full of betrayal and the feel of her bleeding brother in her arms-
“Dammit!” she cried out as arrows cut through her arms and the fire licked at her skin.
Her throat felt like it was closing up, like an oppressive force was settling itself on her chest. It was difficult to breathe, the arrows whizzing around her. Realising she was panicking, the iron control she had on her magic had slipped and she had called on the crystal to save herself. As if her body was moving on its own, she weaved around the ring, feet barely touching the ground as she warped and dodged, landing gracefully as the horn signalling one minute was up sounded. She vaguely registered the crowd half cheering and half gasping as she felt her consciousness slip.
***
Sayuri woke up to a strange smell and a sticky sensation on her arms. Worried, she moved to sit up when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Are you still in shock? You passed out after the Trial of Fire. Please do not move, I haven’t finished bandaging you yet. I am called Fortune.” it was a warm, feminine voice she heard and yet she did not let her guard down.
“Where am I?” wrinkling her nose at the strange smelling ointment, she opted to breathe through her mouth.
“You’re in one of the luxury rooms reserved for Gold Tier arena combatants. I have been sent by The Taskmaster to take care of you,” Fortune lifted Sayuri’s arm, bandaging it tight, “he wishes to have an audience with you.”
She didn’t have time to consent to a meeting, as she heard the sliding door open and footsteps.
“Hello Whispering Blade. I have been watching you.”
‘You and everyone else at this place.’ she thought, annoyed.
“Your Trial of Fire was most interesting, in fact, I daresay I know of someone who possesses the same magic.”
Sayuri blinked, trying not to let her emotion show on her face. The same magic? That means her eldest brother must still be alive, after all this time! Her heart clenched painfully with the hope that at least one of her relatives made it out of the attack. Thinking rationally, she needed to keep on her toes, maybe this Task Master knew too much.
He seemed like a self-important man, as he did not wait for a response, instead just steering the conversation. He outlined his plan for her, how it was possible that the man that went by the name Mountain Rock would be the next tournament champion. Scoffing, he thought it was an insult that a foreigner could win with all the dignitaries in view. So he urged Sayuri to poison his drink when she crossed paths with him again. If she did this, then he would make sure her stay at the arena was a pleasant one.
Redressing herself she scoffed, she refused to resort to such underhanded methods. As much as she wanted information about his sighting of a unique magic wielder, she supposed she had to go find another source.
***
Pressing a cloth to her bloodied nose, Sayuri frowned. She was supposed to be up against a spear-user but what she didn’t know was that the spear was laced with poison. It had to be an assassin. The Promoter was none the wiser and she believed him- he was an airhead after all. Drinking a curative she sighed, out in the big city for the first time in a while and she uncovered the corruption behind the arena.
If and when she took back her home, she would definitely weed out such shady establishments. Brushing herself off as she stood, she walked towards the Promoter.
“Ah, are you ready for your next bout, Whispering Blade?”
“I’d like to know where Mountain Rock is.”
“Ah yes yes of course! I saw him at the tavern. Now don’t go drinking willy-nilly, I need you two in shape to fight!”
Walking past the courtesans and drunken spectators, she heard Amicita’s voice and zeroed in on his location. Intending to tap him on the shoulder to get his attention, she poked his side instead. Embarrassed at miscalculating the distance, getting a laugh in response made her relax slightly.
“May I talk to you in private, Mountain Rock? It’s important.”
“Well of course… Now everyone, don’t go using my drink tab, use your own!”
The pair walked to one of the balconies facing the city. So many ignorant and peaceful people out there, people she needed to protect.
“The Taskmaster wanted me to poison your drink so that you would perish in your next fight. I refused, though.”
Shocked, Amicita’s head whipped around to face her instantly- not that she could see it of course.
“You… You really get straight to the point. A-Astrals guide you, Whispering Blade.” he stuttered.
“Astrals?”
“That is what we call the Gods where I’m from.”
She nodded, thankful for his blessing.
Re: FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [7/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-04-30 01:49 am (UTC)(link)FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [8/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-05-13 06:19 pm (UTC)(link)***
The moon was high in the sky, casting a glow through the window’s shutters. Sayuri had a fitful sleep that night, hearing her brother’s voice and the ringing of the crystal. She woke up with a start, ready to strike, dagger materialising instantly in her hand. Sweat beaded her brow as she slowly came back into consciousness. Dismissing her weapon, she rubbed her forehead and reached for the jug of water on the bedside table. The Taskmaster’s words were still fresh in her mind.
‘…I daresay I know of someone who possesses the same magic.’
Breathing in and out, those words ignited a feeling in her that she hadn’t felt for some time.
Hope.
***
“It’s the fight you’ve all been waiting for! The great Mountain Rock against the Whispering Blade! If Whispering Blade wins this match, she gets to challenge the arena champion!”
The crowd was uproarious as Sayuri rolled her shoulders to relieve tension. She barely had a wink of sleep due to her thoughts and the cloud of assassination resting over her head. The past two duels had been more daemon bashing and she admitted she was careless. The tentacled fiend she was against had grabbed a hold of her star and almost disarmed her.
“I have been waiting for this! Show me what you got!” Amicita’s voice boomed throughout the arena and Sayuri twirled and bowed, having grown to respect the man in the short time they knew each other.
She kept herself grounded, wanting to let Amicita move first. After all, how fast would a man be with a giant broadsword? Soon, she realised, that he could be faster than expected and she barely had time to roll out of the way, hearing the sound of metal through the air. Blinking many times, she tried to regain her composure, but the man’s heavy swings would not keep coming.
Quickly calculating the distance between herself and the sword’s tip, she decided on a surprise attack. As Amicita thrust his sword forwards, Sayuri jumped on top of the blade, using the momentum to launch herself in the air and throw her split shuriken. He raised the blade to deflect them and she caught the stars in her hands again, preparing for a whirlwind assault.
It was a flurry of blades around her as she twirled around the arena, metal clashing against metal. Dust kicked up and she willed herself not to sneeze in her most critical moments. Amicita was on the defensive, as he knew his size could be a disadvantage. Parrying the huge sword for the fifth time, she panted from exertion, but she soon realised that Amicita was nursing an injury on his left side with the way she had almost wormed through his guard.
Playing up her one-distraction trick, she threw her dagger into the air, robes flying around her as she kicked it into what she assumed was Amicita’s left side. After she heard the confirming sound of the dagger hitting the broadsword, she dived, intending slice his now exposed midsection.
Instead, she landed with her legs crossed around his neck, sending them both sprawling into the dirt.
“You!” Amicita laughed, seemingly coming to a realisation, “You are my purpose, and I came here to find you!”
The bell sounded, signalling the match was over. Sayuri sat in confusion, still straddling the man.
***
The Chosen King’s eyes glitter in wonder. His ancestors surely did many interesting things. The Rogue tells her story, weaving the images in this dream-like world he found himself in. A shadow crosses her face when she mentions her eldest brother, whose soul was bound to a suit of armour, to be waved around like a tormented puppet before the arena. She had to face him to become arena champion and soon after releasing his spirit, she cut the Taskmaster’s slithery tongue out.
Soon Noctis realises that in front of him stands a deadly, hardened woman, who has seen too much and has lost too much, all because the Astrals had played games with fate. She talks of how she regained her homeland by beheading the pillaging warlord at the banquet in full view of his allies and how she felt disgust that she became Queen soon after and had to sit and look pretty.
She cut her hair, donned a simple peasant’s outfit once again and took to the shadows, ensuring that her people would never suffer under a tyranny ever again. Her ‘advisors’ had many squabbles amongst themselves, but her Kingsglaive were always nearby, ensuring that her word was always final. Her real name was lost to time, but if one would ask about the Queen with the shuriken that could split the heavens, they would say she was a gentle ruler with a firm hand.
Or, depending on who you asked, a Lilly with the blackest heart, who could crush enemies underfoot.
Re: FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [8/?]
(Anonymous) 2017-05-16 01:55 pm (UTC)(link)I'm sad to see the story come to a close but I love the details here about her eventual reign, and her retreating to the shadows.
FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [9/9]
(Anonymous) 2017-05-15 02:29 pm (UTC)(link)“Being a Lucis Caelum is to suffer. But remember those who are close to you and most importantly, trust in them. I will see you at the end.”
Noctis felt the ground beneath his feet crumble away, the vision of the Queen disappearing. Panic filled his heart, for her words were ominous.
“At the end? What does that mean?”
“Goodbye, young king.”
“Wait, there’s still so much I want to know-! “
He fell, feeling the wind rush past his face. Then all he saw was white.
***
“…Noct…Please wake up…”
The king’s face contorted in pain as he regained consciousness. Adjusting to the light, he opened his eyes slowly, vision swimming. Apparently communing with ancestors really takes a toll on one’s person. Groaning, he flexed his fingers, feeling stiff all over but glad his vision was clearing up.
“Iggy! Gladio! He’s awake!”
He blinked twice, coming face to face with his worried best friend, his advisor and his Shield.
“Hey kid, good to see you’re alright. You’ve been out for two days. We’re at a motel.”
“What happened in there, Noct?” his advisor assessed him, checking for signs of memory loss or hysteria.
Shock settled in. Two days? Where were they and how- He rubbed his face, feeling like he had been run over by a herd of stampeding garula.
“Easy buddy. Take your time.” Prompto pat his arm reassuringly.
Noctis slowly sat up, accepting the glass of water from Ignis. He felt something cold and smooth under his left hand and inspected it, recognising it as a meteorite fragment. It evoked such a familiar feeling as he turned it in his palm. Then he realised was it was. It was the same jewel from the Rogue’s dagger in the vision he had.
He smiled, watery at the memory of his father’s storytelling and the Rogue’s gift, willing himself not to lose composure in front of his retinue. His voice cracked as he spoke, staring at the jewel.
“Well, do I have a story for you guys.”
Re: FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [9/9]
(Anonymous) 2017-05-16 01:58 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Black Chrysanthemums [9/9]
(Anonymous) 2017-05-16 05:36 pm (UTC)(link)