isleofavalon | February open log

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final fantasy xiv: emet-selch

February open log

🧙 WHO: Emet-Selch and anyone
⚔️️ WHAT: Coming out of a sleep (canon update) and throwing himself into quests to distract himself from new memories
🕒 WHEN: Throughout February
🗺️ WHERE: See prompts
⚠️ WARNINGS:
- Possible sexual content in the arrow threads.
- Potential spoilers for Endwalker, let me know if you are fine with them or not.

1. G(lacial)-Warriors 🗡️ (Knight quest)

A quest is just what he needs to take his mind off the plethora of revelations to come from his day of forced slumber - and what better way than to go out and hit something until it falls to pieces? He takes his gunblade, his horse, and the provisions provided by Camelot to all knights embarking on this particular journey. In typical fashion, he does not bother to ask around and see if anyone would like to join him. No, he wants the time to himself to sort out his thoughts.

Yet nothing is ever that easy, is it? He's ambushed by one of the I.C.E. constructs as he nears the spot. His horse rears up in alarm, throwing him from the saddle before bolting into the trees. Emet-Selch lands with a painful thud into a bank of snow. Fortunately, the gunblade strapped to his back seems in order. Unfortunately, the ICE is advancing on him and he's having trouble getting out of the snow.

Help?

(ooc: Existing CR are free to assume they accompanied him from the start if they want.)

2. Serve, Save, Slave, Slay...Some Sushi 🗡️

The sushi monster is no easier to slay than the I.C.E. as Emet-Selch discovers much to his chagrin. What does a man have to do to get some relatively simple knight quests??

The...creature(?) fires a round of pellets at him which has him diving into a rolls to avoid. He comes up into a crouch just in time to parry one of the sharp green swords it wields, quickly getting his feet beneath him before the second can slice him in half. He's been at it for a few minutes by now, focus utterly consumed by the opponent before him. He's growing tired though and the thing still doesn't look like it plans to give up.

"Ridiculous thing," he seethes. "And me, reduced to using these inferior magicks... I should have asked Irhya for a greatsword instead of a gunblade."

He fires off a round and its ricochet echoes throughout the forest. Even if the sound doesn't draw attention, the eerie blue after-image of the shot is worth attention.

(ooc: Existing CR are free to assume they accompanied him from the start if they want.)

3. I See You, Opening! 🛡️

Well of course, Emet-Selch doesn't want anything to do with these tricksy arrows and their dubious effects. But other people may have no such qualms. Perhaps you want to see this sour-looking man pour his heart out to one of his associates. Or perhaps you want to make him suffer by tasting nothing but chocolate for two weeks. Anything goes. ~~Really. Anything.~~

If shooting: Please nominate which arrow you're shooting him with. I'm happy to write custom starters if you want.

If encountering him after he's been shot: Please nominate which effect you want for him. Again, I can write a custom starter if that's preferred.

4. Wildcard

If you have some ideas, feel free to send me a PM or leave a comment on the CR meme.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"...I'd not like to drown should Hythlodaeus decide to shove me into an icy river."

He's quite proud of himself for that half-truth. He hopes the coldness of the water dissuades her from thinking to join him for this 'training'.

"That's really it?" Irhya seems dissatisfied with that answer by the look on her face, moving closer as if to haul him out of the water herself. "You might've staved off drowning, but you can't stave off the chill."

He steps backwards to maintain the distance, even though it puts him in slightly deeper water. Unfortunately, she's right: it is really very cold.

"I assure you, I'll be fine," he says grumpily. "But if you're truly that concerned, then turn around. I'm not coming out while you gawk at me."

"...Why?" Irhya tilts her head, furrowing her brow. "Unless you're injured and just don't want to show me, I can't imagine why you'd care that much."

So that's a no, especially if she's right about that injury part. Fortunately, she's wearing leather thighboots today, so it's easy to step in without getting wet. The hem of her cloak doesn't fare as well, but she can dry that out later.

"Gods be good, Emet-Selch, get out," she says emphatically, still coming at him.

Edited 2022-04-17 10:41 (UTC)

When she uses his title like that, he's inclined to dig his heels in and be even more stubborn. The moment she steps in, he realises she is not going to be dissuaded and he thrusts out a hand to stop her.

"Alright. Alright! I'll come out. But I insist you turn around first," he growls.

"What-- no! Did you hurt yourself? Is that why you don't want to show me?" Irhya huffs, glaring at him. "Do you expect me to stay turned around the entire time I drag your arse home? I'm better off just carrying you in that case."

And she means it, because she makes another sloshing step into the water, drawing ever closer to being in range of grabbing him.

What?! Oh no. He waves his arms at her wildly, trying to ward her off.

"I said I would come out already! For the love of Zodiark, Irhya...!!"

Unfortunately in trying to circle back to the bank as he backs away from her, he ends up getting into shallower water. Which means she can immediately see his problem (which unfortunately hasn't subsided even in the cold water). As soon as he realises, he colours, turns, and tries to flee the rest of the way up the bank to where his clothes are.

It takes Irhya a moment to register what he's so worked up about, but then she remembers the description of one of the arrows.

...That's it? She sighs, turning back around and following him to the riverbank.

"You know," she says dubiously, "you could've just asked for help instead of letting the kid blackmail you." A smirk creeps into her voice. "I guess even sex city didn't drill that lesson into you, huh?"

"You know I hated that place."

It's one thing to walk about bare-faced and quite another to walk around with nothing at all. In any case, he snatches up his clothes and uses them to hide his little problem. The cold has gone some way towards staving off the arrow's effects but he can tell it hasn't gone away.

"Don't you find it uncouth to simply...walk up to another's door and ask for sex?" he demands.

"Under normal circumstances I'd say yes, definitely, but don't we at least count as friends with benefits by now?" She says, that smirk not going away. He must know what's coming, whether he asks for it or not. "It's not that weird for people to come calling for sex as long as you ask first."

Of course, her lifestyle is quite a bit different than his -- booty calls are not uncommon amongst the most pent-up adventurers. Some people are just the type to need it every once in a while. She's sent and answered those types of calls before, herself.

"Come on. Cold skin isn't pleasant. I'd like to warm you up a bit first."

He could think of more miserable ways to wait out the arrow's effects, he supposes, although that doesn't mean he's any happier about being forced to find relief. For Irhya's sake however, he masks his irritation and snorts.

"Oh yes? Tell me: how, exactly, do you plan to warm me up?" He snags her waist with an arm and draws her to his side, eyeing her slyly. He is only partially dressed, chest bare to the elements.

"You've accepted your fate pretty quickly," she remarks with a laugh. "I'd have been worried if you kept complaining about it."

Removing her cloak and tossing it over his head, she figures it'll at least keep him from freezing to death before they get there. She's in a long-sleeved knit sweater underneath, so she'll be fine. "As for how, I think you've figured it out already. Unless you plan to bemoan that too?"

"I do enjoy your company, you know. I simply wish it were in better circumstances."

He is grateful for the cloak even if he makes no mention of it, tugging it a little more snugly about his shoulders.

"We haven't shared a bed all that often since arriving here, have we?" Not compared to Felih at least.

That makes her smile a little, even though she's tugging at her sleeves. "No, I suppose not," she replies, thinking back to the last place they were stuck in. At that time, it was near constantly, but here... "It's nice not having to be under that quota pressure all the time, too. Maybe we don't do it as often, but it makes things sweeter when we do come together, I think."

Climbing over a snowbank instead of taking the long way around to the corner of the walkway, Irhya unlocks her door and ushers him inside, surprisingly disinclined to pounce the second he gets inside as usual. This time, she decides, it's going to be slow and leisurely... inasmuch as she can do slow and leisurely. It has been a little while, after all.

He steps in, relaxing a little as the outdoor chill eases. "I have been experimenting a little with 'Daeus," he confesses after she shuts the door. He starts to shrug off her cloak, growing conscious of the slow resurgence of his unwilling arousal. "He is rather..."

He falters, trying to think of a word that isn't 'sadistic'.

"I can think of many fitting words you could put there," she says with a laugh, thinking back to that one time in the clothing store. "What a riot he is. I love it."

Maybe Duplicity really did change him for the better in some ways. There are many facets of him that will never change no matter how many eons pass, but him growing a little more comfortable with intimacy might've been the silver lining to it all.

"And what have you been experimenting with, if I may ask? Anything fun?" Irhya leans into his back and presses her lips against the center of his shoulders, as high as she can reach on tiptoe. "Perhaps I could take a leaf of inspiration or two from him..."

He huffs, covering her hands with his own as he speaks over his shoulder. "He has surprisingly punitive streak. Not a few moons ago, I made a jest about punishing him for his transgressions and he-- ah, he suggested that perhaps I would enjoy such treatment instead. So I...allowed him to try."

He grows warmer, recalling how Hythlodaeus had so easily and naturally filled the role. "If you would like to try such a play yourself then I would not be averse to it. Or mayhap there is something else you wish to try?"

"Oho..."

She presses a smirk to his skin. That can certainly be arranged, but to do it exactly like Hythlodaeus is no good. She'll have to put some sort of spin on it. Like perhaps...

"All right, then. Go sit down. Hands at your sides -- and no touching anything until I say you can. Not me, not yourself, nothing."

The touch evaporates, and Irhya grins, moving around him in a small rush of cool air. "We'll see how long you can handle that instruction, first and foremost."

His hand falls to hang by his side again as he watches her circle with a curious, hungry gaze. No touching... Of course. This will be different to that time when she had compelled him to accept his bondage however. This will be voluntary.

"Not even to undress?" He takes a seat in the nearest couch or armchair, keeping his hands flat on the seat.

"You're already undressed, and I can take care of my own perfectly well. In fact..."

Flipping the oversized sweater over her head is a quick and easy gesture as she leaves it on the floor to collect later, diving in to lean possessively over him with one knee up on the couch next to his and one hand on his shoulder.

"I don't suppose you'd like a show, would you?" Irhya says demurely.

"A show?" he repeats, eyebrow raised. There's a faint smirk on his lips. "Well, if you're offering, I'm hardly going to say no."

No movement. No touching. Is she going to do a lap dance? He's had women try to before, in other lives, although he has never cared much for them. Perhaps with Irhya it will be different.

Irhya pauses to assess. To be honest, she isn't much for shows, either, but if she can spin some sort of intrigue into it...

He may not be allowed to touch, but she takes advantage of the fact that she is, making accidental-on-purpose light grazes across his skin as she moves. She starts by removing her bra, and while she could just lean over and let him get a faceful, she opts for something a little less brazen, bending back so that when the cover falls away, her breasts are settled upon her ribcage. Just for a little additional teasing, she runs a hand over them, right down the middle of her chest as she comes back to center.

...But she probably shouldn't spend too long up here. He never struck her as having a preference for breasts. Definitely more of a legs and arse kinda guy, regardless of the gender of who he's looking at.

Using her tail for balance, she goes for her skirt and panties too, having to stand up again to get them fully off. But once she does, she's right back straddling his lap, coming close enough that he can almost certainly feel her body heat in all the right places.

"I'm really no good at lap dances, anyway," she laughs quietly into his ear, nipping on the lobe while her tail tickles against his leg. "But I'll put on a good show nonetheless. Just you watch."

His ear grows warm from the attention. He wets his lips, his hand twitching as if to rise before he forces it back in place. Although she's right in that he has no specific preference for breasts, he still enjoys the lean of her soft and supple body.

"All I can do right now is watch," he murmurs back. "You don't need to impress me, Irhya. Do what gives you pleasure. I shall strive to obey your every whim until then."

But I do, her hesitation says, just like the look on her face. The gentle reassurance makes her bite her lip unexpectedly; it almost, almost smothers her desire to be rough with him at all, but she manages to snap back up quickly enough that it doesn't die off completely.

Irhya breathes in to say something in return, then changes her mind, at least for now. Pressing herself up against him, she lets her face fall into the crook of his shoulder and inhales his scent, tainted by ice and river water though it is.

"I'm really going to kick your arse one of these days," she growls, pinning his shoulder in place while her hand ventures towards his lower half, teeth sneaking out to scrape at his skin. "You can't just talk like that to me while I'm trying to put on a show!"

Suddenly, gravity shifts, and she moves him sideways so that he's lying down flat on his back, with her sitting astride his hips. The hand that isn't toying with the notion of curling around him below comes to brush a thumb across his lips, then starts to prod with her first two fingers to try and insist them into his mouth.

"So you know what? No more talking."

Poised to offer a response, her fingers give him pause. After a moment, his lips part and he sucks on the proffered digits silently while his steady gaze rests upon her face. The chill from the river has all but dissipated now; his arousal presses stiffly between them, wanting her or her hand - whichever she will deign to give.

I will trust you, his eyes seem to say. No movement from him, no speech.

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