Ficlet: Accolade
Dec. 4th, 2018 07:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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finalfantasyxivfanworksTitle: Accolade
Characters: Original Characters
Rating: T
Warning: None
When Felyx shambled into the FC’s living room that morning, still half-asleep with a mug of coffee in hand, he found his favourite armchair buried beneath a pile of letters and parcels.
He stared blankly at the pile, scratching at his scruffy jawline for a moment, before letting his gaze slide to his left a little. The sofa wasn’t so much better, though at least this had a person on it too. Bluebird, in nothing but her nightwear (read: a bra and underpants), was clutching a letter in her hand with such viciousness Felyx was briefly concerned about the sender’s future health.
“Has karma finally come to call?” he asked mildly, taking a sip of his coffee as Bluebird slanted a sharp, cold look at him. He shrugged it off, like water off a duck’s back, and cocked his head at the piles of letters currently infesting their living room’s furniture, “Court summons?”
“Ha ha,” Bluebird threw the letter down contemptuously, “No. It’s fanmail.”
Felyx blinked owlishly, then stuck a finger into his ear as if to clean it out, then said, “What?”
“Fanmail,” Bluebird repeated, moodily shoving a pile off the sofa, “Sit down.”
He contemplated being contrary, just to poke the bear a bit, but eventually his laziness won out. With a shrug, he shuffled to the sofa and flopped down without spilling his coffee, lifting his feet to press his heels into the edge of the sofa seat, his fluffy tail draping over his toes.
“So, don’t tell Aza,” Bluebird said, lifting up an unopened letter and ripping its envelope open, “But he’s been getting fanmail ever since we blew up that castrum.”
“Which castrum?” Felyx asked, “We blew up a lot of them.”
“Big Mecha castrum.”
Ah. That castrum.
“That was… almost two years ago,” Felyx said wonderingly, “You’ve hidden this from Aza for two years?”
“It wasn’t as bad back then,” Bluebird grumbled, “Just little letters like, ‘thanks for fighting the Imperials’, or ‘keep up the good work!’. But that was when he was this dumbass adventurer from the boondocks, and no one knew shit about him except that. Now, however…”
Felyx grimaced. Right. With the protective barrier of the Scions stripped away, Aza had been thrust front and centre ever since the whole mess with the Sultana and running away to Ishgard. He had been under intense scrutiny, had to deal with people more directly, rather than being tempered or mitigated by the Scions’ presence and reputation. Even when the Scions returned… in a fashion, it was too late. Aza had become more proactive, demonstrated initiative, which was good, but also opened him up to the court of public opinion.
Being the Warrior of Light netted him incredible gratitude… but also jealousy, unrealistic expectations and entitlement.
“How many are about Aymeric?” he asked wearily.
Wordlessly, Bluebird held up the letter she had just opened. Felyx read the first line and winced.
“Oh, wow…”
“Not all of them,” Bluebird said grudgingly, “But too many. There’re loads that say nice things about him, but about the wrong things. He’ll hate them.”
Felyx studied the piles with a sharper focus now. On the coffee table, things seemed more organised – some letters were put in specific piles, along with a few scrawled notes done in Bluebird’s inexperienced hand. He couldn’t read it, probably only Bluebird could.
“You know,” he said very carefully, “Aza’s got a lot of issues, but I think he can manage his own hatemail without breaking down crying at some mean words.”
Bluebird’s lips thinned.
“Just because he can manage it,” she said stiffly, “doesn’t mean he should. He’s got a lot of crap on his plate right now, so, whatever. It’s just shitty letters. It’s no skin off my nose to deal with it so he doesn’t get all… distracted, and shit.”
Felyx hid his smile in the rim of his mug, “You’re such a loving sister.”
Bluebird went a delightful shade of pink, but an otherwise adorable expression of embarrassment was ruined by the sneer she shot his way. She never let herself look soft, even in front of Aza. Felyx wondered if she found it exhausting, projecting such a ‘tough guy’ attitude all the time.
“Aza’s my responsibility,” she said stonily, “Even if he makes it fucking difficult.”
Funny. Aza would say that Bluebird was his responsibility, especially when she got up to all kinds of mischief and ran afoul of the local law enforcement. Felyx sipped his coffee again, marvelling how ridiculous the Iriq siblings were – and how devoted. Even though they didn’t share the same blood, they were thick as thieves and would fight to the ends of the earth for each other. Felyx couldn’t say the same for his own sisters, and they were blood-related to him!
“Well, guess I’ll leave you to it,” Felyx said idly, eyeing the large stacks of letters and deciding to squirm away before Bluebird pressed him into unwilling service, “Enjoy invading Aza’s privacy.”
“I’m not invading his privacy,” Bluebird scoffed, “I’m identifying his enemies and crushing them for him.”
How disturbing. Felyx pointedly did not comment on that, took another sip of coffee, and made his quick escape.
He had to wonder though, just how the hell Bluebird got the postmoogles to direct all of Aza’s mail to her – and how long it was going to take for Aza to find out. After all, those letter piles were huge. There was no way Aza was that oblivious.
…
Then again it did take him three weeks to notice the Bismark fountain they installed in the toilet, so who knows.
Characters: Original Characters
Rating: T
Warning: None
When Felyx shambled into the FC’s living room that morning, still half-asleep with a mug of coffee in hand, he found his favourite armchair buried beneath a pile of letters and parcels.
He stared blankly at the pile, scratching at his scruffy jawline for a moment, before letting his gaze slide to his left a little. The sofa wasn’t so much better, though at least this had a person on it too. Bluebird, in nothing but her nightwear (read: a bra and underpants), was clutching a letter in her hand with such viciousness Felyx was briefly concerned about the sender’s future health.
“Has karma finally come to call?” he asked mildly, taking a sip of his coffee as Bluebird slanted a sharp, cold look at him. He shrugged it off, like water off a duck’s back, and cocked his head at the piles of letters currently infesting their living room’s furniture, “Court summons?”
“Ha ha,” Bluebird threw the letter down contemptuously, “No. It’s fanmail.”
Felyx blinked owlishly, then stuck a finger into his ear as if to clean it out, then said, “What?”
“Fanmail,” Bluebird repeated, moodily shoving a pile off the sofa, “Sit down.”
He contemplated being contrary, just to poke the bear a bit, but eventually his laziness won out. With a shrug, he shuffled to the sofa and flopped down without spilling his coffee, lifting his feet to press his heels into the edge of the sofa seat, his fluffy tail draping over his toes.
“So, don’t tell Aza,” Bluebird said, lifting up an unopened letter and ripping its envelope open, “But he’s been getting fanmail ever since we blew up that castrum.”
“Which castrum?” Felyx asked, “We blew up a lot of them.”
“Big Mecha castrum.”
Ah. That castrum.
“That was… almost two years ago,” Felyx said wonderingly, “You’ve hidden this from Aza for two years?”
“It wasn’t as bad back then,” Bluebird grumbled, “Just little letters like, ‘thanks for fighting the Imperials’, or ‘keep up the good work!’. But that was when he was this dumbass adventurer from the boondocks, and no one knew shit about him except that. Now, however…”
Felyx grimaced. Right. With the protective barrier of the Scions stripped away, Aza had been thrust front and centre ever since the whole mess with the Sultana and running away to Ishgard. He had been under intense scrutiny, had to deal with people more directly, rather than being tempered or mitigated by the Scions’ presence and reputation. Even when the Scions returned… in a fashion, it was too late. Aza had become more proactive, demonstrated initiative, which was good, but also opened him up to the court of public opinion.
Being the Warrior of Light netted him incredible gratitude… but also jealousy, unrealistic expectations and entitlement.
“How many are about Aymeric?” he asked wearily.
Wordlessly, Bluebird held up the letter she had just opened. Felyx read the first line and winced.
“Oh, wow…”
“Not all of them,” Bluebird said grudgingly, “But too many. There’re loads that say nice things about him, but about the wrong things. He’ll hate them.”
Felyx studied the piles with a sharper focus now. On the coffee table, things seemed more organised – some letters were put in specific piles, along with a few scrawled notes done in Bluebird’s inexperienced hand. He couldn’t read it, probably only Bluebird could.
“You know,” he said very carefully, “Aza’s got a lot of issues, but I think he can manage his own hatemail without breaking down crying at some mean words.”
Bluebird’s lips thinned.
“Just because he can manage it,” she said stiffly, “doesn’t mean he should. He’s got a lot of crap on his plate right now, so, whatever. It’s just shitty letters. It’s no skin off my nose to deal with it so he doesn’t get all… distracted, and shit.”
Felyx hid his smile in the rim of his mug, “You’re such a loving sister.”
Bluebird went a delightful shade of pink, but an otherwise adorable expression of embarrassment was ruined by the sneer she shot his way. She never let herself look soft, even in front of Aza. Felyx wondered if she found it exhausting, projecting such a ‘tough guy’ attitude all the time.
“Aza’s my responsibility,” she said stonily, “Even if he makes it fucking difficult.”
Funny. Aza would say that Bluebird was his responsibility, especially when she got up to all kinds of mischief and ran afoul of the local law enforcement. Felyx sipped his coffee again, marvelling how ridiculous the Iriq siblings were – and how devoted. Even though they didn’t share the same blood, they were thick as thieves and would fight to the ends of the earth for each other. Felyx couldn’t say the same for his own sisters, and they were blood-related to him!
“Well, guess I’ll leave you to it,” Felyx said idly, eyeing the large stacks of letters and deciding to squirm away before Bluebird pressed him into unwilling service, “Enjoy invading Aza’s privacy.”
“I’m not invading his privacy,” Bluebird scoffed, “I’m identifying his enemies and crushing them for him.”
How disturbing. Felyx pointedly did not comment on that, took another sip of coffee, and made his quick escape.
He had to wonder though, just how the hell Bluebird got the postmoogles to direct all of Aza’s mail to her – and how long it was going to take for Aza to find out. After all, those letter piles were huge. There was no way Aza was that oblivious.
…
Then again it did take him three weeks to notice the Bismark fountain they installed in the toilet, so who knows.
