If you'd like to apply to Snowblind and would like to test the waters first or get a sample set up for your application, this meme is for you! We've even provided some prompts for you to use if you want (but feel free to make up your own). Here's how it works.
✭ Reply to this entry with a character you're considering apping into the game. You can include the name of your character and the fandom in your subject line. ✭ Comment around to others on the meme, whether you're in the game already or not. ✭ Now you have a sample ready for your application! ✭ So go reserve and apply when reservations and applications are open. ✭ Seriously, do it.
Network Prompts
ONE: YOUR COOPERATION IS APPRECIATED When you wake up, you find that a new application has been downloaded to your tablet. It's titled "SURVEY" and is exactly what it claims to be--although there's no explanation to why it's appeared or what it is for other than the note that claims the survey is not opt-out and that your cooperation is appreciated. And more troubling, the questions become more sinister the farther in you answer. Such questions as, "on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your stay?" and "have your needs been met in a timely manner?" become more akin to, "if you had to chose between the two, would you eat your hands or your feet to stave off the hunger?" and "are you sure you are not the last one still alive?"
Perhaps someone on the Network would like to discuss what this could mean--and if there are any consequences behind finishing or refusing to take the survey.
TWO: NOT SO HELPFUL AVATARS Every tablet has the option for a customizable avatar that will talk to you and keep your tablet in order. Maybe you set it up, maybe you never checked it. Either way, it keeps popping up unrequested and being sort of... Odd. Flickering, talking in strange, mechanical voices, offering advice that's unhelpful at best and actively harmful at worst... Maybe it's even telling the entire network some things you've been doing you'd rather everyone didn't know.
Time to call tech support. Unfortunately, the best option is other people on the network. Good luck.
Action Prompts
THREE: SPIDERS IN THE WALLS Somehow you or your travel companion injured themselves. A quick call to the admin fixed this, but now you can't help but be gripped with the burning curiosity of where the helpful spiders she deployed have gone. You saw them scramble toward the vents, but by the time paralysis wore off they'd completely disappeared. Only now you can't stop thinking about them. Where do they go to? How can they be trapped or followed? You swear you hear little mechanical pattering inside the walls. Maybe you can find some sort of tool to help you break into a vent around the house. Or maybe your companion can convince you to rest before you hurt yourself.
FOUR: SCHOOL DAYS You've ended up in the elementary school. Maybe you're grabbing more food, maybe you're exploring. Either way, this place is creepy; the atmosphere is the sort that gets the hair on the back of your neck rising (potentially metaphorically, if you don't have hair or a neck). It's not long before strange things start happening. The sound of running and screaming children, doors slamming in far off or nearby hallways, pianos playing... What's going on? It's hard to tell what's really happening from what isn't happening. Maybe someone who's also exploring has some idea.
I pray one of you know aught of this swiving device.
[The words are spoken as if they tasted foul, a testament to his lack of patience if nothing else.
He honestly doesn't even like using it—machines were not to be trusted, and this one freaking out on him is only validating his opinions. It was bad enough that it won't let him change the typo in his name, but now this... talking, and possibly thinking little annoyance is on the fritz, and he has not the capacity or the patience to deal with it properly.]
It had appeared to be operating well enough—for what little I know of machines—but even I can tell that there is aught amiss with it now. Scant do I know how to use the bloody thing, let alone the wherewithal to fix it.
[There's a growl of frustration.]
If not for the fact abandoning it has proved a fruitless endeavor, that would be my preferred solution, but alas...
4 - action
[Finding rations was indeed on Estinien's list of things he needed to do, but he also was in search of anything that may be used as a weapon. Unfamiliar with schools of this make, he had little idea what he was getting into when he decided to enter the building. There was a sense of foreboding with the darkened halls—a haunting sort of lingering he couldn't quite place. As if something was watching him, while they remained utterly undetected.
It frightened him not, there were worse things to fear than empty dark halls of a building, and most of which he had faced head on before. In fact, it had seemed more on the quiet side than not—until he was rummaging through a room for anything that would prove particularly interesting, or of use.
That was until he heard a far off door slam. In an instant he was at his full height, still and alert. It was not fear that gripped him, no, not even close, but he was wary, for he had thought himself alone. With careful steps, he made his way to the doorway, peering out to see no one at all.]
What in the bloody hells...
[It was a murmur to himself, one that did not go without an answer, whether it was meant for him or not. Soon the sound of children could be hear far off—they were screaming.
Instead of running away like a more cowardly man would have, Estinien followed the shrill sound to its source: a room on the upper level. Without any thought for who—or what—could be in there, he busts the door open with a well placed kick.
No sooner did it open, did the screaming stop, and he was left staring at whomever was inside. With no sight of the children he heard, a scowl crossed his features—not that you could see much of them with his helmet. Said dangerously low:]
[ Guess who has a deceptively light stride and a sass streak a mile wide? Because the Storm Admiral is more than happy to pause a generous distance away, poised with one boot still on the stairs she's ascended from. ]
Frightened away, perhaps. You endear yourself to none by abusing the fixtures.
[ Seriously, kicking open the door? Not friendly. Excessively spiky, scowling elf kicking open the door? Definitely not child-friendly. ]
[Little did Estinien expect to run into a roegadyn, and perhaps had he ever paid Limsa a visit, he might realize who she was. Unfortunately, with the war ever raging, it made for scarce time to visit the other city states, or to meet the leaders there of.
The answer was far from what Estinien had wanted to hear, and if his scowl could worsen, it would.]
Endearment is the least of my concerns. You did hear them, did you not? They sounded as though they were but on the other side of this door, yet I see not a single trace.
[Estinien is far from child friendly, bu he's not likely to stand around while hearing the suffering screams of them.]
[ Goodness gracious, what a pleasant surprise. Flying under the radar nowadays is so very rare, she just has to take a moment to appreciate the lack of recognition. To be honest she can't exactly place Estinien either; not taking into account the general standoffishness of Ishgardian Knights Dragoon, at any rate. She studies him intently - his armor, his bristling body language... pricklier than an irate cactuar, this man - prior to gesturing towards the empty classrooms with one hand. ]
Aught that makes such a hellish din should be treated with the utmost caution, would you not agree? [ A half step to fully exit the stairwell, and she folds her hands neatly at the small of her back, giving Estinien a distinctly unimpressed arch of one eyebrow. ] Barreling arse over teakettle into an obvious trap will avail you naught but bruised pride, ser knight.
[ But then again, for an order of nutcases known specifically for flinging themselves aloft at dragons well over three times their size with nothing but a glorified toothpick in hand, one might suppose any Dragoon wouldn't do anything in half measures. ]
[The only real exposure Merlwyb seemed to have with Ishgardians tended to be with House Valentione, and they varied quite a great deal from... pretty much all of Ishgard really. Estinien was no different, but he did well to stick to the uptight stereotypes and bold recklessness they were known for in battle.
But who could blame them when a sure fire way into Halone's Halls was to die gloriously in battle! Sane people, probably.]
One needs not sacrifice urgency for caution.
[He says sharply, even though there was not even an onze of caution in that dramatic entrance, but whatever. Semantics.]
If you wish to stand idly by pondering over what may or may not be a trap whilst there may yet be innocents to save, so be it. Not I. Piss on your swiving caution.
[If we're being real, Estinien is a little miffed there wasn't something to tussel with. It had been too long since he had a good fight--armed or not. And if he could save the lives of others while he was at it, that would certainly be a bonus.]
[ Well, she can't rightly claim to prefer going tits-first into battle if he so gallantly wants to paint a bullseye on his chest instead. Merlwyb is quite fond of the notion that fools rush in. There's a time and place to turn the full strength of your sword arm to task - namely, when all factors are accounted for. This is very clearly not one of those times nor places ESTINIEN. B|
He's most lucky that the Admiral tends to keep her most biting commentary to herself. ]
Perhaps. How chivalrous it would seem to the children for their saviour to flatten them accidentally with a door blown off it's hinges. [ There's just the tiniest smidgeon of a smile curling the corner of her mouth. Calling u on ur shit, derpgoon. Don't front with Merlwyb. ] But I forget myself. As you can see, there is no-one here, nor has there been for quite some time.
[ The ilm-thick coating of dust and grime should make her point on that. really though estinien, at least try to use some common sense. ]
[A fool rushes in without a means to handle a situation, Estinien knows full well he can strong arm his way out of most danger, or figure something out. He isn't a total fool, he just also isn't a coward. Unlike SOME PEOPLE!!!]
A door knocking them askew would be the least of their worries in this godsforsaken place.
[yes, because that's a good argument. At least he's chilling out a little.]
Nevertheless, 'tis true this building has not seen the likes of man in a veritable age, but that does little to explain the voices we both heard.
[ Because strong arming his way through fusterclucks turned out so well with a certain spicy noodle alien who Shall Not Be Named. Sure. Suuuuuuuuure.
With some assurance that the mystery cactus man isn't about to fly off the handle in spectacular fashion any time soon, Merlwyb takes advantage of the uneasy silence following his theory with her usual amount of pragmatism - thoughtfully eyeing the piles of dirt-coloured debris piled on the floor for anything that might still be useful. ]
Twelve forfend such ill fortune. But - [ Dusting a speck of wayward dust off her uniform with a practiced flick of the side of her palm, ] - if raising a ruckus from here to the seven hells is aught they can do, I'm of a mind to ignore them entirely.
[ Spotting a promising gleam from a far corner, she doesn't stand on ceremony to brusquely sidestep past him (with the amount of caution appropriate for skirting something covered with blades from head to toe and armed with a short temper), her boots kicking up a haze of suspended dust motes in her wake. If her luck holds strong perhaps she'll come across some sharp metal scraps or shards of glass - solid materials to tack together some makeshift throwing knives or axes. ]
[HEY WE DON'T MENTION THAT PARTICULARLY SPICY DANGER NOODLE, OK?? That was a fluke! An outlier, and thusly should not be counted.]
It would seem this entire town is suffocating in ill fortune. Lingering specters being the least of such.
[If it were indeed ghosts just getting the jump on him, letting out a holler cuz what else do they have to do with their time, he feels a bit more silly bursting in like he did, but it was for good reason, so his pride is scarcely suffering for it. With curiosity, he watches Merlwyb as she heads over to... whatever it is that has her attention.
He keeps his distance however, crossing his arms over his chest.]
Found aught of interest?
[He doubted it, this school had proved to be far more fruitless than he had feared. Anything that might have been able to serve as some sort of makeshift weapon either was too brittle with age, or too broken to even slap together.]
[ Uh huh. Danger noodle screwed you up BUT GOOD, old son. Deny it all you like.
Sifting through the muck and crap certainly isn't Merlwyb's idea of a good time, with all the grit that she'll undoubtedly have to painstakingly wash from her clothing afterwards, so she treats each dust pile with the same 'nose through it with the tip of a boot' until shapes of interest are unearthed. A few rusty wires here and there (useless), a second empty glass bottle (which is scooped up in short order), and a reasonably sized scrap of metal that may have once been a ruler. All in all not a waste of time. ]
Barely. I mislike scrounging for scraps of such poor quality.
[ Just going to... casually hold her new treasures at arm's length to make sure none of that junk rubs off on her nice coat until it's been washed clean. FRUSTRATED SIGH. Life hard. ]
The slums of Ul'dah would have more to offer than this paltry garbage.
[Wordlessly he watches as she goes through the trash. Estinien is no stranger to getting dirty—he has far had his share of being splattered with gore and god knows what else when it came to slaying dragons—so he finds Merlwyb's reluctance to get any soot or grime on herself amusing.
For a pirate, she sure was acting dainty!]
You have the right of it. Scant have I found aught of use. A waste of time and effort.
[He does spare a glance at Merlwyb's trophies, an unseen brow quirking at her bounty.]
A bottle... Plan to bottle some snow for safe keeping?
[ Getting splattered with blood during the heat of battle is one thing, being much alike to a badge of honour to display your willingness to hold the front line, but this............. Yeah, not so much. Plus it's much more fiddly to keep a uniform immaculate rather than just wiping it off of Drachen Mail like any average joe. In all honesty she'd have changed into something less formal for this task had she anything else to wear.
But she doesn't, so. Deal with it. ]
A bottle. [ She agrees easily, turning said object gingerly by the neck, gauging the thickness and hue of the glass. ] One with uses aplenty. Broken, the shards may maim or slay if driven deeply enough. Whole, a container for fuel to launch at a foe from a distance and light afire at leisure.
[It's just some dirt, get over it! Sure it... maybe has been sitting there for a long time, and there's likely some unidentifiable muck with the dirt and grime, but still. STILL.]
And here I thought you might do something practical.
[To someone who knew him, it'd be obvious he's joking, but his tone of voice barely shifts from what it was.]
Regardless, I pray you never find use for it in such a manner. I hear the beasts here are quite the force to be reckoned with.
[Unless of course she is the type to enjoy a good tussle. But from what he has come to understand, is most do not fair well against the creatures here. Or at all, as it would seem. He's curious to test the odds himself, not one to rely on just the idle claims of other men without knowing their capabilities first hand.
[The high, soft voice of a child could just very well be another ghostly illusion. In the distance comes:] Hello? [A loud, inquisitive call, echoing as if hands are cupped around the mouth. A little wary, a little unsure.
But then there's footsteps edging down the hallway, likewise careful. Attempting to be quiet. Softer now:] Hello? [Since the busting of a door in such a strange, unsettling place may not be such a good thing.
Emily comes in the view not fully, but as a silhouette. Small, slim. To an Elezen, she is considerably tiny.] I'm not one of the little ghosts.
[His ears did indeed pick up the small "hellos" amongst the cries and screams of children, but the screams proved themselves far more pressing a priority.
However, with the door kicked open, and naught to be found of what he expected, his attention does fall to the small form that flirts with being recognizable, but doesn't quite reveal itself fully.]
Ghosts? Is that where the screaming originated?
If you are not a ghost, then who and what are you? Cease your hiding within the shadows.
[Maybe there were nicer ways to ask these things, but Estinien cares little for tact.]
My name is Emily Kaldwin. [Spoken fairly regally considering.] I'm a-- [When she steps more clearly into view, she also gets a pretty good look at Estinien. Good grief!
Not only does Emily think he looks super cool, but he is very tall, and her mouth drops open in surprise.] Are you a knight? You're in a lot of armor.
Are you looking for a wyrm? I don't think there's any wyrms here to slay.
I am Estinien, Azure Dragoon of the Holy See of Ishgard--but one could liken me to a knight.
[That is if someone wanted to over simplify things. He did offer a nod to her question--he did indeed wish to slay a wyrm, but the wyrm in question most doubtlessly was not here.
A shame, really.]
That I have gathered. Would that my particular quarry were brought here, I might not be so annoyed, but alas.
I wager you are familiar with such beasts, or the likeness of mine armor to them?
[Oh he's nothing too important, just the mighest of Ishgard's warriors, nbd!
He cannot say he has much experience conversing with children, but at least Emily is proving herself rather tolerable. At the thought of Wyrms not being real, he let's out an indignant huff. Only a fool with think such rot.]
Whilst I know not of their personal taste in collecting valuables, the Wyrms which I have slain have been in the name of Ishgard. We have waged war with the hellbeasts for over a thousand years.
Their savagery is without quelling, whilst their thievery is limited to the hearts of men which they can sway to their chorus. It is my sworn duty to lay them low in the name of the Holy See, so that we might yet see an end to this damnedable war.
[He pauses a moment, giving the small girl a once over.]
Others say they are mere stories, is it true that dravanians are so rare whence you hail?
[Unable to help herself, she covers her mouth with a hand to try to keep herself from giggling too rudely. She's charmed really. His manner of speech makes her think she is listening to a storyteller, or reading a book.
At the once-over, she straightens a little in embarrassment as if she were about to be scolded.] You've really fought them? You've killed a whole bunch? [SO COOL, AHHH.]
Dravanians? Oh, you mean wyrms? I've never seen one, but people have written stories about them. There's whales. They look kind of scary, but I think they are just really sad because people hunt them for their oil.
They aren't wyrms, but they are maybe as big as one. They live in the sea.
[He honestly isn't sure to what she is giggling at, but he would never claim to know the minds of children. Barely does he know the minds of his fellow man, but more so because he does not care to. Children, however, are beyond him.]
Aye, I have killed scores of them—as it is my duty.
[To her question, he nods. There are many names for them, but if this girl has never seen one, it's not surprising she might not know them as Dravanians.]
There are wyrms who live in the sea as well, though they are scarcely a whale. Consider yourself blessed you are not plagued with such foul beasts.
[He says this, but here she is in this frozen wasteland, presumably by herself. That sinks in, and he glances around to see if maybe she isn't alone.]
[UMMmmm.] Yes. [Which prompts her to glance around. The school had--and has?--been fairly spooky. But the childish laughter and little footsteps accompanied by slamming doors puts her more at ease than the foreboding air the deeper she goes inside.]
Do you want me to accompany you in here? [As opposed to the opposite, truly. She reaches out and offers her hand, palm up. She'll hold your hand and walk you through the creepy school, Lord Dragoon Wyrmblood.]
Interesting, doubtless, but you would not have much time to ponder before it would likely make a meal of you.
[No one ever said Estinien knew what was and wasn't appropriate to say to kids, ok. However, her answer inspires a derisive snort from him, and he eyes her hand with annoyance.
For a moment, he has to remind himself she's but a child, and she likely didn't mean anything by the question. Perhaps she's braver than your usual little girl. there's a thought.]
I would feel more at ease if you were not left on your lonesome in this abandoned building. Who knows what dangers may yet be skulking about.
[Sorry, Emily. But this dragoon isn't about holding hands, even if it's the hand of an endearing little girl.]
[Oh. Well, that's just too fucking bad then, Mister Estinien! Emily is having none of it, and she takes half a step forward to capture his hand or wrist with her own.] We'll go together. If we run into anything scary, you can fight them.
[Just... cause... she can't right now!] I don't know if anything bad is here, but I know there's children. Well, I hear them. Can you hear them, too? They are laughing, and I hear them running.
Sometimes, they open and shut doors.
But I don't see any children. Maybe-- [Her voice lowers, and her grip on Estinien tightens for just a moment.] --they're ghosts.
[He watches her as she gets closer, forcibly taking his hand once she's close enough. He's wordless in his protest, actionless too since he doesn't pull his hand away. Just a silent frown, and not much more. If she wants to hold his hand so badly, then fine, he'll let her HE GUESSES.]
Aye, I have heard them. 'Twas upon their screams and slamming of doors I found myself lead to you.
[The squeeze of his hand does not go unnoticed but again his reaction is silence. He honestly doesn't know what to do with a child of her age, but he'll keep trucking he guesses!!]
'Tis as good a guess as any for what these loud, seemingly invisible inhabitants are.
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snowblindmemes2016-06-14 08:57 pm
Estinien Wyrmblood | Final Fantasy XIV
I pray one of you know aught of this swiving device.
[The words are spoken as if they tasted foul, a testament to his lack of patience if nothing else.
He honestly doesn't even like using it—machines were not to be trusted, and this one freaking out on him is only validating his opinions. It was bad enough that it won't let him change the typo in his name, but now this... talking, and possibly thinking little annoyance is on the fritz, and he has not the capacity or the patience to deal with it properly.]
It had appeared to be operating well enough—for what little I know of machines—but even I can tell that there is aught amiss with it now. Scant do I know how to use the bloody thing, let alone the wherewithal to fix it.
[There's a growl of frustration.]
If not for the fact abandoning it has proved a fruitless endeavor, that would be my preferred solution, but alas...
4 - action
[Finding rations was indeed on Estinien's list of things he needed to do, but he also was in search of anything that may be used as a weapon. Unfamiliar with schools of this make, he had little idea what he was getting into when he decided to enter the building. There was a sense of foreboding with the darkened halls—a haunting sort of lingering he couldn't quite place. As if something was watching him, while they remained utterly undetected.
It frightened him not, there were worse things to fear than empty dark halls of a building, and most of which he had faced head on before. In fact, it had seemed more on the quiet side than not—until he was rummaging through a room for anything that would prove particularly interesting, or of use.
That was until he heard a far off door slam. In an instant he was at his full height, still and alert. It was not fear that gripped him, no, not even close, but he was wary, for he had thought himself alone. With careful steps, he made his way to the doorway, peering out to see no one at all.]
What in the bloody hells...
[It was a murmur to himself, one that did not go without an answer, whether it was meant for him or not. Soon the sound of children could be hear far off—they were screaming.
Instead of running away like a more cowardly man would have, Estinien followed the shrill sound to its source: a room on the upper level. Without any thought for who—or what—could be in there, he busts the door open with a well placed kick.
No sooner did it open, did the screaming stop, and he was left staring at whomever was inside. With no sight of the children he heard, a scowl crossed his features—not that you could see much of them with his helmet. Said dangerously low:]
Where are they?
4
Frightened away, perhaps. You endear yourself to none by abusing the fixtures.
[ Seriously, kicking open the door? Not friendly. Excessively spiky, scowling elf kicking open the door? Definitely not child-friendly. ]
no subject
The answer was far from what Estinien had wanted to hear, and if his scowl could worsen, it would.]
Endearment is the least of my concerns. You did hear them, did you not? They sounded as though they were but on the other side of this door, yet I see not a single trace.
[Estinien is far from child friendly, bu he's not likely to stand around while hearing the suffering screams of them.]
no subject
[ Goodness gracious, what a pleasant surprise. Flying under the radar nowadays is so very rare, she just has to take a moment to appreciate the lack of recognition. To be honest she can't exactly place Estinien either; not taking into account the general standoffishness of Ishgardian Knights Dragoon, at any rate.
She studies him intently - his armor, his bristling body language... pricklier than an irate cactuar, this man - prior to gesturing towards the empty classrooms with one hand. ]
Aught that makes such a hellish din should be treated with the utmost caution, would you not agree? [ A half step to fully exit the stairwell, and she folds her hands neatly at the small of her back, giving Estinien a distinctly unimpressed arch of one eyebrow. ] Barreling arse over teakettle into an obvious trap will avail you naught but bruised pride, ser knight.
[ But then again, for an order of nutcases known specifically for flinging themselves aloft at dragons well over three times their size with nothing but a glorified toothpick in hand, one might suppose any Dragoon wouldn't do anything in half measures. ]
no subject
But who could blame them when a sure fire way into Halone's Halls was to die gloriously in battle! Sane people, probably.]
One needs not sacrifice urgency for caution.
[He says sharply, even though there was not even an onze of caution in that dramatic entrance, but whatever. Semantics.]
If you wish to stand idly by pondering over what may or may not be a trap whilst there may yet be innocents to save, so be it. Not I. Piss on your swiving caution.
[If we're being real, Estinien is a little miffed there wasn't something to tussel with. It had been too long since he had a good fight--armed or not. And if he could save the lives of others while he was at it, that would certainly be a bonus.]
no subject
There's a time and place to turn the full strength of your sword arm to task - namely, when all factors are accounted for. This is very clearly not one of those times nor places ESTINIEN. B|
He's most lucky that the Admiral tends to keep her most biting commentary to herself. ]
Perhaps. How chivalrous it would seem to the children for their saviour to flatten them accidentally with a door blown off it's hinges. [ There's just the tiniest smidgeon of a smile curling the corner of her mouth. Calling u on ur shit, derpgoon. Don't front with Merlwyb. ] But I forget myself. As you can see, there is no-one here, nor has there been for quite some time.
[ The ilm-thick coating of dust and grime should make her point on that.
really though estinien, at least try to use some common sense.]no subject
A door knocking them askew would be the least of their worries in this godsforsaken place.
[yes, because that's a good argument. At least he's chilling out a little.]
Nevertheless, 'tis true this building has not seen the likes of man in a veritable age, but that does little to explain the voices we both heard.
[a beat, then quietly:]
Perhaps wayward spirits still linger.
no subject
Sure.
Suuuuuuuuure.
With some assurance that the mystery cactus man isn't about to fly off the handle in spectacular fashion any time soon, Merlwyb takes advantage of the uneasy silence following his theory with her usual amount of pragmatism - thoughtfully eyeing the piles of dirt-coloured debris piled on the floor for anything that might still be useful. ]
Twelve forfend such ill fortune. But - [ Dusting a speck of wayward dust off her uniform with a practiced flick of the side of her palm, ] - if raising a ruckus from here to the seven hells is aught they can do, I'm of a mind to ignore them entirely.
[ Spotting a promising gleam from a far corner, she doesn't stand on ceremony to brusquely sidestep past him (with the amount of caution appropriate for skirting something covered with blades from head to toe and armed with a short temper), her boots kicking up a haze of suspended dust motes in her wake. If her luck holds strong perhaps she'll come across some sharp metal scraps or shards of glass - solid materials to tack together some makeshift throwing knives or axes. ]
no subject
It would seem this entire town is suffocating in ill fortune. Lingering specters being the least of such.
[If it were indeed ghosts just getting the jump on him, letting out a holler cuz what else do they have to do with their time, he feels a bit more silly bursting in like he did, but it was for good reason, so his pride is scarcely suffering for it. With curiosity, he watches Merlwyb as she heads over to... whatever it is that has her attention.
He keeps his distance however, crossing his arms over his chest.]
Found aught of interest?
[He doubted it, this school had proved to be far more fruitless than he had feared. Anything that might have been able to serve as some sort of makeshift weapon either was too brittle with age, or too broken to even slap together.]
no subject
Sifting through the muck and crap certainly isn't Merlwyb's idea of a good time, with all the grit that she'll undoubtedly have to painstakingly wash from her clothing afterwards, so she treats each dust pile with the same 'nose through it with the tip of a boot' until shapes of interest are unearthed. A few rusty wires here and there (useless), a second empty glass bottle (which is scooped up in short order), and a reasonably sized scrap of metal that may have once been a ruler. All in all not a waste of time. ]
Barely. I mislike scrounging for scraps of such poor quality.
[ Just going to... casually hold her new treasures at arm's length to make sure none of that junk rubs off on her nice coat until it's been washed clean.
FRUSTRATED SIGH. Life hard. ]
The slums of Ul'dah would have more to offer than this paltry garbage.
no subject
For a pirate, she sure was acting dainty!]
You have the right of it. Scant have I found aught of use. A waste of time and effort.
[He does spare a glance at Merlwyb's trophies, an unseen brow quirking at her bounty.]
A bottle... Plan to bottle some snow for safe keeping?
[because, snow is so hard to find... you know...]
no subject
Yeah, not so much.
Plus it's much more fiddly to keep a uniform immaculate rather than just wiping it off of Drachen Mail like any average joe. In all honesty she'd have changed into something less formal for this task had she anything else to wear.
But she doesn't, so. Deal with it. ]
A bottle. [ She agrees easily, turning said object gingerly by the neck, gauging the thickness and hue of the glass. ] One with uses aplenty. Broken, the shards may maim or slay if driven deeply enough. Whole, a container for fuel to launch at a foe from a distance and light afire at leisure.
[ "Bottle some snow", he says. Smh. ]
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And here I thought you might do something practical.
[To someone who knew him, it'd be obvious he's joking, but his tone of voice barely shifts from what it was.]
Regardless, I pray you never find use for it in such a manner. I hear the beasts here are quite the force to be reckoned with.
[Unless of course she is the type to enjoy a good tussle. But from what he has come to understand, is most do not fair well against the creatures here. Or at all, as it would seem. He's curious to test the odds himself, not one to rely on just the idle claims of other men without knowing their capabilities first hand.
Mayhap this sassy Roegadyn is the same.]
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four
But then there's footsteps edging down the hallway, likewise careful. Attempting to be quiet. Softer now:] Hello? [Since the busting of a door in such a strange, unsettling place may not be such a good thing.
Emily comes in the view not fully, but as a silhouette. Small, slim. To an Elezen, she is considerably tiny.] I'm not one of the little ghosts.
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However, with the door kicked open, and naught to be found of what he expected, his attention does fall to the small form that flirts with being recognizable, but doesn't quite reveal itself fully.]
Ghosts? Is that where the screaming originated?
If you are not a ghost, then who and what are you? Cease your hiding within the shadows.
[Maybe there were nicer ways to ask these things, but Estinien cares little for tact.]
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Not only does Emily think he looks super cool, but he is very tall, and her mouth drops open in surprise.] Are you a knight? You're in a lot of armor.
Are you looking for a wyrm? I don't think there's any wyrms here to slay.
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[That is if someone wanted to over simplify things. He did offer a nod to her question--he did indeed wish to slay a wyrm, but the wyrm in question most doubtlessly was not here.
A shame, really.]
That I have gathered. Would that my particular quarry were brought here, I might not be so annoyed, but alas.
I wager you are familiar with such beasts, or the likeness of mine armor to them?
[Is she too from Eorzea? He wonders idly.]
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The way he speaks makes her smile, though. She is entertained and fond because he reminds her of the stories she loves to read back home.] Yes.
I've never seen a wyrm, though. I've only read about them. Everyone says they are just stories. I think they are real.
Wyrms like to steal expensive things and make it treasure, and they guard it all the time. They get really mad if you try to touch it.
Knights go slay them so they stop stealing and hurting people.
Is that what you do?
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He cannot say he has much experience conversing with children, but at least Emily is proving herself rather tolerable. At the thought of Wyrms not being real, he let's out an indignant huff. Only a fool with think such rot.]
Whilst I know not of their personal taste in collecting valuables, the Wyrms which I have slain have been in the name of Ishgard. We have waged war with the hellbeasts for over a thousand years.
Their savagery is without quelling, whilst their thievery is limited to the hearts of men which they can sway to their chorus. It is my sworn duty to lay them low in the name of the Holy See, so that we might yet see an end to this damnedable war.
[He pauses a moment, giving the small girl a once over.]
Others say they are mere stories, is it true that dravanians are so rare whence you hail?
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At the once-over, she straightens a little in embarrassment as if she were about to be scolded.] You've really fought them? You've killed a whole bunch? [SO COOL, AHHH.]
Dravanians? Oh, you mean wyrms? I've never seen one, but people have written stories about them. There's whales. They look kind of scary, but I think they are just really sad because people hunt them for their oil.
They aren't wyrms, but they are maybe as big as one. They live in the sea.
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Aye, I have killed scores of them—as it is my duty.
[To her question, he nods. There are many names for them, but if this girl has never seen one, it's not surprising she might not know them as Dravanians.]
There are wyrms who live in the sea as well, though they are scarcely a whale. Consider yourself blessed you are not plagued with such foul beasts.
[He says this, but here she is in this frozen wasteland, presumably by herself. That sinks in, and he glances around to see if maybe she isn't alone.]
—Miss Emily, are you unaccompanied?
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[UMMmmm.] Yes. [Which prompts her to glance around. The school had--and has?--been fairly spooky. But the childish laughter and little footsteps accompanied by slamming doors puts her more at ease than the foreboding air the deeper she goes inside.]
Do you want me to accompany you in here? [As opposed to the opposite, truly. She reaches out and offers her hand, palm up. She'll hold your hand and walk you through the creepy school, Lord Dragoon Wyrmblood.]
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[No one ever said Estinien knew what was and wasn't appropriate to say to kids, ok. However, her answer inspires a derisive snort from him, and he eyes her hand with annoyance.
For a moment, he has to remind himself she's but a child, and she likely didn't mean anything by the question. Perhaps she's braver than your usual little girl. there's a thought.]
I would feel more at ease if you were not left on your lonesome in this abandoned building. Who knows what dangers may yet be skulking about.
[Sorry, Emily. But this dragoon isn't about holding hands, even if it's the hand of an endearing little girl.]
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[Just... cause... she can't right now!] I don't know if anything bad is here, but I know there's children. Well, I hear them. Can you hear them, too? They are laughing, and I hear them running.
Sometimes, they open and shut doors.
But I don't see any children. Maybe-- [Her voice lowers, and her grip on Estinien tightens for just a moment.] --they're ghosts.
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Aye, I have heard them. 'Twas upon their screams and slamming of doors I found myself lead to you.
[The squeeze of his hand does not go unnoticed but again his reaction is silence. He honestly doesn't know what to do with a child of her age, but he'll keep trucking he guesses!!]
'Tis as good a guess as any for what these loud, seemingly invisible inhabitants are.
Do you fear them?
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