Odette purses her lips as she studies herself in the mirror, absently reaching up to brush a few stray strands of hair back into their strategically messy place.
She had heard in the past that she looked like her mother, but she could never truly see it. Her mother had been taller, with darker skin and eyes that shone blue, not red. If anything, she suspected that she took more after her father, and that people were just attempting to be polite.
Still. She wouldn’t have minded if it were true.
Non-Aggression Treaty 10/13
Idristan Agache lets out a long sigh as
he walks into Wineport. He looked tired, though for once it seemed to be less
exhaustion and more sleeplessness, if the circles under his eyes were any
indication. From the look on his face, he was in an even more grumpy mood than
usual too, something that the morning (or well, approaching afternoon) sun was
doing nothing to help. He was dressed casually, and though he had his staff
with him, he certainly didn’t seem to be expecting trouble. Which would perhaps end up being a mistake.Lebeaux Desrosiers arrived at Wineport and
dusted a bit of dirt from his cloak immediately. The outer towns and villages
were always so… dirty. Yet he could see the charm of Wineport. The rolling
green fields and proud stone structures did strike a chord, they were almost
reminiscent of Coerthas before the snow. The information had indeed proven
correct and there was a white-clad elezen with hair to match and a staff far too
pretty for his miserable talents as a conjurer. Idristan. Lebeaux followed after, though he was careful to
remain out of striking distance for now. “Good afternoon.” He offered
cheerfully, his smug smile already in place. “Drinking away your sorrows or
have you come to find work as a field hand. Perhaps even you won’t be able to
muck that up.”Idristan starts and whirls on his
heel at the familiar voice. “Oh, for the love of Halone,” he mutters
irritably under his breath. “Lebeaux,” he says, his voice as cold as
ice as his hands ball into fists at his sides. “I have no idea what
sorrows you’re talking about,” he declares. “And perhaps you should
be the one considering field work. Perhaps you would find more success in that
than in duels.”
Hey, SE.
Where’s my magitek kettle for my house??
Sincerely,
-A Highly Under-caffeinated Garlean
i love the concept of treasure hunting in ffxiv because sometimes youll end up finding some Expensive Rare 10000000mil cloth used to craft the Finest Shirt Known To Fucking Man
and then other times you just open up the box and its just. a pile of fucking leaves. go fuck yourself heres some leaves bitch.
Odette’s mother had always been quite candid, when Odette had asked about her father, that the relationship had been little more than a one night fling. That she had been charmed by his cute looks and soft words, and that perhaps there had been some alcohol involved. Lycelle had seen no reason to hide the truth from her daughter, and so Odette had accepted all of this as the reason why the other kids in the places they visited had fathers, and she did not.
There were times that she envied them, of course, especially during those times when her mother left to do her job. But a quick reminder about how she was getting to see more places than those other children could dream of, and anyroad her mother loved her, usually was enough to distract her. She certainly didn’t the resent the man who wasn’t there.
That would come later.
After the Calamity, after her mother’s disappearance (she was “missing”, not “gone”, she would insist. She couldn’t be gone, there was no way, and after all they had found no body), when she realized that she would be staying with her aunt and cousins for far longer than anyone had intended, then she started to grow bitter.
Because for the first time she needed him, and he wasn’t there.
Roses And Grimoires 