FFXIV Write 2024 || 3. Tempest
“Now, now, one at a time… I have autographed photos enough for you all.” A tall, white-haired elezen stood in the midst of a throng of excited and chattering Turali as they waved and fawned over him. “You can tell all your friends about the day you met the world-renown, star-stepping, sky-defying, heart-thumping personage in the one and only monster-hunting dragoon, Edgard Eugene Beau–MONT!” The last syllable came out as an indignant squawk as the tall Ishgardian was pulled down about a foot by a blue-skinned hand snatching his ear and using it to drag him down thus. His frost-blue eyes met the moon-bright amber of a cerulean-toned miqo’te as she glared at him.
“Haa…” He stammered, shoving off the last few autographed photos of himself off onto the eagerly reaching hands of his new fandom. “Ha-ha-ha! What jokesters these Turali are, they really think I’m famous!” He said in an aside to the miqo’te. Her eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Ah…” He gulped. “R-right. Let me just…” Reaching up he gingerly extracted his ear from her grip so he could straighten back up to his full height. “All right, all right, that’s enough now. Duty calls and I must away! Thank you good citizens for your warm welcome and your adoration!” He gave a courtly bow. A pair of young Turali maidens sighed in half-swoon.
The blue miqo’te folded her arms over her chest, lips pursing impatiently. Giving a slight grimace and lifting his hands to cover his ears, the elezen slunk his way toward her. “S-so, where are we going?”
“Honestly…” She sighed at him, planting her fists on her hips. “We’re half the world away from everything we know and you still can’t help but pull the same old nonsense. Why can’t you just be YOU for once?” The tone of her voice was less angry and more disappointed.
The elezen laughed sheepishly, lifting a hand to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. “Old habits, I guess…” He would have preferred her angry; her anger was always easier to deal with than her disappointment. “But you’re right, I should be making more of an effort to be myself. Everyone should know the full glory that is Edgard Eugene Beaumont!” He splayed his arm on either side of him in grandiose fashion. Several passers-by stared in stupefaction.
“Ardi!” The miqo’te huffed, stamping a foot on the ground. “Just stop!” Her tail lashed fitfully behind her.
Edgard cringed a moment. This apparently meant a great deal to her. For all that she was so much smaller than he was, Aultena was a tempest in a teapot. Pushing her much farther might have him end up as an unfortunate pincushion of arrows washing up in the Turali harbor.
“So, uh, how about some tacos?”