I. Dreams of Eld - Light [At first, all Hythlodaeus knows is peace and light. He walks, as most others do, because there is simply nothing to do but go forward. There's no rush, no anxiety, nothing but the nostalgic feeling of being somewhere he is supposed to be. He walks for what feels like an eternity, knowing nothing but that blanketed peace and the light.
But then, there are other lights. Dim and bright, a myriad of different shapes and colors, flickering in and out of the light all around him until his eyes learn to focus anew and he can begin to see them a little clearer, can see the color of souls as they move along these paths of light, much like he is.
He sees, and he begins to remember, as well.
Fire in the skies, abominations born from magic and devouring their creators. Death and chaos, fear the likes of which his people have never felt. He has to wonder, as he walks along that path of light, if perhaps he was taken by the calamity that fell upon his people. If he had lost his life and returned to the world as aether, if this is the path that comes after souls make their journey into the Underworld. And if it is... what of his purpose? The very thing he devoted his entire being to, the safety and continued work of two people precious to him-- if he is here, should he be?
That thought is the first that gives him pause, has him stopping in his seemingly endless journey into the light, standing in the middle of a traveled path with a hand on his chin, frowning as he lets himself lapse into thought, something within him clawing almost desperately at that cloth wrapped around his mind and keeping him in this floating feeling of peace. He was not meant to leave the world without ensuring that Emet-Selch and Azem's purposes would also be completed, and if he retains this level of self, has he truly returned to aether? Or is this that "light at the end of the tunnel" that he needs to choose not to go into?
Someone bumps into him, another on this path of light, moving ever closer to the warmth of nostalgia at the end, and Hythlodaeus looks up, sees familiarity and kinship, and he smiles. He must have been meant to pause at that very moment, since he is sure he was meant to meet the person in front of him. What else could this feeling of nostalgia and belonging be?]
Apologies, my friend. I suppose I should have moved to the side of the path, rather than simply lapsing into thought in the center.
II. Awakening [It takes Hythlodaeus a long, long time to come to. The quiet of his dreams, the familiarity within the light-- it proved almost too welcoming to truly leave. But slowly and surely, he finds consciousness returning, awareness of the strange restriction around his body, the way he can both breathe and not breathe all at once, the way he feels as if every inch of him is being held firmly in place without the strength to even tense his muscles in order to break free...
He may be moderately used to being more helpless than his peers, but never has he felt this weak.
It takes time and a fair bit of effort, but eventually the tensing of his muscles gives way to the faintest hint of movement. A wiggle, a lift, the space around him becoming more and more bit by bit until he has enough room to shift his body just slightly, just enough to be able to push from his feet and thrust forward with his hands, the shell around him cracking slowly and steadily until his hand breaches through.
From there, it's slow but steady progression, the break increasing until he can get his other hand up into the gap, prying at the crystal encasing him until he can manage to get his head free, taking in fresh air in nearly desperate gasps. He works until he is able to free himself enough to stand within his strange prison, sliding his hands carefully through his hair to squeeze out the moisture covering him from head to toe, looking around at others who are at the stage he is, to those who have already pried themselves free, and those whose prisons are still and soundless, or those who have even the faintest of cracks on the surface.
Finally, his eyes fall on the person nearest to him, one hand waving in exhausted greeting as he does his best at giving a gentle smile.]
Hello, there. You wouldn't happen to know where we are, would you?
III. Respite [Hythlodaeus doesn't consider himself an overly suspicious person, but oohhhhh what's happening to them is really testing the boundary between curious observer and untrusting skeptic. Waking up in an unknown world? Curious. People coming out of nowhere and rounding them up? Not unheard of in the world outside of Amaurot, so... curious. Being marched on and gathered with more groups of people in some ruins with the whisper of the word ritual in the air?
Well, that's where he has to draw the line.
Not that there's really anything for him to do, for now. He's managed to avoid further restrictions by playing along and being pleasant. He's kept his tongue in check and done his best to follow orders, watching and observing and learning all he can about their captors and their intentions. Sadly, he hasn't gathered much.
Which is what brings him to his current situation, sitting on his thin bedroll tucked as far behind a pillar as he can be - the closest he could find to privacy. Well, as much privacy as an abnormally tall, pink haired man can really get.]
Hmmm... [Hythlodaeus lets his voice escape him, aware of those around him, but not specifically calling anyone in particular out.] What to do, what to do....
IV. Free For All [Want something different? Have a cool idea? Go ahead with it!]
[ooc| action-spam and prose both welcome! i'm brushing off the rp dust, so i might be a bit on the slow side. feel free to DM or message me speedstering with any questions!]
Hythlodaeus | Final Fantasy XIV | The Martyr | Endwalker spoilers all up in hurr
[At first, all Hythlodaeus knows is peace and light. He walks, as most others do, because there is simply nothing to do but go forward. There's no rush, no anxiety, nothing but the nostalgic feeling of being somewhere he is supposed to be. He walks for what feels like an eternity, knowing nothing but that blanketed peace and the light.
But then, there are other lights. Dim and bright, a myriad of different shapes and colors, flickering in and out of the light all around him until his eyes learn to focus anew and he can begin to see them a little clearer, can see the color of souls as they move along these paths of light, much like he is.
He sees, and he begins to remember, as well.
Fire in the skies, abominations born from magic and devouring their creators. Death and chaos, fear the likes of which his people have never felt. He has to wonder, as he walks along that path of light, if perhaps he was taken by the calamity that fell upon his people. If he had lost his life and returned to the world as aether, if this is the path that comes after souls make their journey into the Underworld. And if it is... what of his purpose? The very thing he devoted his entire being to, the safety and continued work of two people precious to him-- if he is here, should he be?
That thought is the first that gives him pause, has him stopping in his seemingly endless journey into the light, standing in the middle of a traveled path with a hand on his chin, frowning as he lets himself lapse into thought, something within him clawing almost desperately at that cloth wrapped around his mind and keeping him in this floating feeling of peace. He was not meant to leave the world without ensuring that Emet-Selch and Azem's purposes would also be completed, and if he retains this level of self, has he truly returned to aether? Or is this that "light at the end of the tunnel" that he needs to choose not to go into?
Someone bumps into him, another on this path of light, moving ever closer to the warmth of nostalgia at the end, and Hythlodaeus looks up, sees familiarity and kinship, and he smiles. He must have been meant to pause at that very moment, since he is sure he was meant to meet the person in front of him. What else could this feeling of nostalgia and belonging be?]
Apologies, my friend. I suppose I should have moved to the side of the path, rather than simply lapsing into thought in the center.
II. Awakening
[It takes Hythlodaeus a long, long time to come to. The quiet of his dreams, the familiarity within the light-- it proved almost too welcoming to truly leave. But slowly and surely, he finds consciousness returning, awareness of the strange restriction around his body, the way he can both breathe and not breathe all at once, the way he feels as if every inch of him is being held firmly in place without the strength to even tense his muscles in order to break free...
He may be moderately used to being more helpless than his peers, but never has he felt this weak.
It takes time and a fair bit of effort, but eventually the tensing of his muscles gives way to the faintest hint of movement. A wiggle, a lift, the space around him becoming more and more bit by bit until he has enough room to shift his body just slightly, just enough to be able to push from his feet and thrust forward with his hands, the shell around him cracking slowly and steadily until his hand breaches through.
From there, it's slow but steady progression, the break increasing until he can get his other hand up into the gap, prying at the crystal encasing him until he can manage to get his head free, taking in fresh air in nearly desperate gasps. He works until he is able to free himself enough to stand within his strange prison, sliding his hands carefully through his hair to squeeze out the moisture covering him from head to toe, looking around at others who are at the stage he is, to those who have already pried themselves free, and those whose prisons are still and soundless, or those who have even the faintest of cracks on the surface.
Finally, his eyes fall on the person nearest to him, one hand waving in exhausted greeting as he does his best at giving a gentle smile.]
Hello, there. You wouldn't happen to know where we are, would you?
III. Respite
[Hythlodaeus doesn't consider himself an overly suspicious person, but oohhhhh what's happening to them is really testing the boundary between curious observer and untrusting skeptic. Waking up in an unknown world? Curious. People coming out of nowhere and rounding them up? Not unheard of in the world outside of Amaurot, so... curious. Being marched on and gathered with more groups of people in some ruins with the whisper of the word ritual in the air?
Well, that's where he has to draw the line.
Not that there's really anything for him to do, for now. He's managed to avoid further restrictions by playing along and being pleasant. He's kept his tongue in check and done his best to follow orders, watching and observing and learning all he can about their captors and their intentions. Sadly, he hasn't gathered much.
Which is what brings him to his current situation, sitting on his thin bedroll tucked as far behind a pillar as he can be - the closest he could find to privacy. Well, as much privacy as an abnormally tall, pink haired man can really get.]
Hmmm... [Hythlodaeus lets his voice escape him, aware of those around him, but not specifically calling anyone in particular out.] What to do, what to do....
IV. Free For All
[Want something different? Have a cool idea? Go ahead with it!]
[ooc| action-spam and prose both welcome! i'm brushing off the rp dust, so i might be a bit on the slow side. feel free to DM or message me