+ dream to write history, not to simply study it, you aspire to heroes, not simply adore them, am I wrong?”
She gave a gentle, motherly smile.
“It is your choice. Remember though, whatever ever you choose, 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘦. For fate has ever been in the hands of man.”
Nymeia only smiled and chuckled at the other’s visible confusion, it was clear that she did take 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 joy in teasing the Miqo’te, though she would reassure him with shake of her head.
“Man has ever been the helmsman of his own fate, we of the twelve have only ever +
+ be the one to see that this new tapestry stays it’s course, it’ll be your hands as they are able to weave this new story.
𝙊𝙛 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙧𝙨𝙚, you have the choice to deny such a monumental task. To leave it to others. But I think you and I both know it has always been your +
❛❛I couldn't have done this without all of you.❜❜
『 🔥 Half Human & Esper 🔥 』
#FinalFantasyVI#DissidiaRP & #WOFFRP
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// I have a question, who all would be interested in doing a big MVRP SL?
The long and short of the plot is “what if the Endsinger sang her song of death at the multiverse?”
This will be big open event, and will include not just the other FF series, but other series over all
@CelestialFate_ //since I’m mediating the story, I’ll be hands off as much as possible from the protagonists side of the story, unless it’s needed. I’ll be facilitating the movement of the story via the metia
// Doing the Splendorous tools side quests and not even being able to do the first synthesis is making me feel like a fraud as omnicrafter, and as a Weaver specialist in particular—
+ Nymeia would then summon a mirror, for G’raha to see himself.
The fabrics she weaved for him were similar to the ones he wore as the Exarch in the first, but given a flair similar to that of the clothes worn by the twelve.
“My my a bolder statement if there ever was.” The divinity grinned.
“What ever should I do? You who would desecrate the domain even gods dare not 𝙩𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝?”
She tapped her cheek, as if in thought, most likely thinking of an appropriate punishment befitting +
ㅤ
No mere scholar, but a leader — a glimmer of ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 to a dying land: an 𝐄𝐱𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 before Her.
❝ Yet, I am without regrets and would walk that selfsame path should duty call. ❞
+ our oath.”
With the last of the thread safely in place, Nymeia would plant a kiss upon the fabric of the robe’s hood, and from that kiss, her aether would spread across the robes in ornate designs, and synthesize themselves into golden lace trims, the final touch. +