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Writing Prompt: Alternate Universe


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I was talking to Oscare about a new writing challenge and suggested this but I like it so much I'll put it forward to you myself.

 

Write your character in a setting or timeline that is different than now. Perhaps a "What if" singular point where one decision made differently could do little or major impact on your character, his family, his Eorzea.

 

You don't need to sign up, just write it!

 

For example, what if Kage never sent Natalie a missive about pursuing his Sultansworn dreams? Perhaps he confronted C'kayah's attacks at the Royall Ball with his sword instead of his voice. What if Kage never spoke to Roen to convince her and Natalie that secrets (may) need to (never) come out. Maybe just small, itty bitty differences or MAJOR ones! You decide!

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OMG Yes. There are some many lovely "what-ifs" I can do.

 

To name a couple:

 

"What if Franz wasn't crazy?"

 

"What if he hasn't gone after Kage?"

 

"What if he got paid 'that night' "

 

"What if a certain Garlean Experiment never happened"

 

Or a personal favorite: "What if he tried to protect Jin'li?"

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I will have to do this.

 

Maybe a "What if Hornet wasn't such a disappointment to her mother?"

I will have to do this.

 

Maybe a "What if Aaya wasn't such a disappointment to her [father and] mother?"

 

Oh right.. she'd still be in Ishgard and all boring!!!!

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Wow!! I had fun with this.....and it made me a bit sad for Ruru.

 

 

 

"I'm thinking of running a side business.....some might call it smuggling..."

 

"Yer name'll be Flit...."

 

"I'm withdrawing my application to be a Sultansworn..."

 

"Kage will be your mentor..."

 

"I'm looking for a job...been sort of lost since my training in the Archer's Guild...."

 

The arrow hit his brother in the chest knocking him backward, off of the cliff...

...............and Ruru pursued. He run fast, nocking another arrow onto the bow, prepared to fire as he descened the steps. There Nonotano lay, bleeding and reaching an arm up, his voice a ragegd whisper. Ruru didn't care. With a stern face he fired the arrow into his brother, and watched him die before him.....

 

He snapped awake, the strange dream ending. One was a vivid memory that occasionally hit him when he slept, the other visions were....strange to him, echoes of something he couldn't quite recall. Ruru sighed and turned to get out of bed, the quiet sounds of the Shroud welcoming him as they always did. He made sure not to wake his wife, for she was a light sleeper, he quietly prepared for the day. His short white hair needed only a brief combing since he typically wore his wide brimmed hat while working anyway. His light robes felt good and he smiled. Time to greet the day.

 

Limping out of the home (he'd been injured shortly after entering the archer's guild and his knee hadn't been the same since), he grabbed his work tools and headed out to the small modest field he and his wife had been working on for months now. The vegetables had been coming in nicely and he was a bit proud of the work the two of them had put into it. Running a gloved hand through his beard he smiled warmly. "Nearly forgot you didn't I?" Chuckling softly he walked to his Chocobo, Moriarty, and patted him on the neck. "Aye aye, boy, you can come with me, but stay out of the garden or she'll have both of our hides for supper."

 

The two went to the garden and he knelt down working. He'd found a great fondess for farming and wished he'd picked it up earlier in life. But such was the way of the Twelve. He felt blessed as gathered enough fruitds and vegetables for supper. Ruru glanced up and knew the morning had been getting away from him and he still needed to head into to town for some meat. He set down his small shovel and heard the loving voice behind him, "You going to be there all day? You know we still need to go to town." He turned, looked at his wife and nodded. "Aye, my love.....will be in shortly."

 

He smiled, happy as he'd ever been.

 

 

 

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Tip over the pot, let's see what spills out.

 

 

 

He saw himself as if witnessing from someone else's perspective, younger and full of spirit. A brief night's rest at Scorpion Crossing allowed him to gaze upon the Jewel and wonder if he should set off on his own. The caravan had been a home for him and he felt some guilt for the urge to walk away, but Warren had always felt the lust to go and set out for his own. Now with Ul'dah so close, he felt the pull more than ever. Perhaps a grand destiny awaited him there, or at least a few pretty girls. Like all scoundrels, though, Warren believed these things were in the winds and not his head and so he trusted his fate to a flip of a gil.

 

"Damn," He whispered to himself when the coin dictated Ul'dah was not for him. "I was so sure, too."

 

 

 

Harder than I thought, but there's more. This is just a taste.

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Hmm...I'll do a little one too. A little glimpse of what could have been.

 

Franz stared at the strange little device. It had been explained that it was based off some ancient allagan entertainment system, that had allowed one to look at their own life, in another world.

 

 

 

As he awoke that morning, he smiled to Lydia, the most beautiful person in the world to him, although their daughter was a close second. He bent down to give her a quick kiss, and changed from his sleeping robe to something more professional. One couldn't be expected to run an establishment looking like one of the patrons.

 

Garlemald and Eorzea had come to peace with each other, forming a trade partnership. In return for trade based on magitek, the Eorzeans had brought in a wave of unique culture to Garlemald, with their use of aether. The two countries had found no reason to fight, and the mutual friendship had given both countries room to grow. Garlemald had had a bloodless revolution after making the necessary changes to its republic. With trade routes from other neighboring countries, it had come to flourish.

 

It was a sunny day off and the inn had already been tidied up the night before. As he got to work tending to the interior workings of the inn, making sure everything was running smoothly, he smiled, knowing more peaceful days like this would come.

 

There were no ongoing wars. No fighting. His required military service spent never having been deployed. The Garlean valued the life he'd been allowed to live, cherishing every moment.

 

 

He couldn't stand to see any more, looking away from the display. He'd seen a fragment of the live he'd lost, something that couldn't possibly be achieved. But that wasn't the case here and now. "A world where Garlemald never become a military power? Looks boring." As he left the area, one might have heard the man's actual feelings, whispered, "at least I know they're happy somewhere..."

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((Just toying with an idea.))

 

"You don't have to do this, Berrod. You don't have to live this kind of life. Stealing, hurting people...there's so much good a man of your strength can accomplish! I...I know you don't kill. I know you speak out against killing. That has to mean something, right? You're a compassionate man, and we need that in the world today."

 

The Midlander fellow spoke valiantly, even as Berrod's fingers moved to wrap around his throat. His words made sense. There was a path he could walk that would lead to good deeds. He could just walk away, leave the man with his belongings and try to figure it out. The Midlander seemed to see the conflict in his eyes, and pounced on it. "I -- I won't tell anyone about this, it'll be as if it never happened! I know you -- please, Berrod!"

 

No. He remembered his struggle on the streets of Ul'Dah, and the way people walked past him without so much as a glance. The beatings, the stabbings...the unsavory rich perverts who had a...questionable taste for destitute Highlanders...the abuse from the Brass Blades. If he went back, if he tried to do good, no one would see that. They'd always see him for what he had been.

 

Street dirt. 

 

His fingers closed about the Midlander's throat and cut his speech. "Sorry, boss," He grunted, "There ain't no good here. Jus' a fight to th'top." Tighter. "You say you know I don't kill...that's true. I don't. But maybe that's what I've been doin' wrong. I can't jus' stop an' let ya go. Sorry I can't make it quick."

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... Believe it or not, I actually can't think of any major "what if" moments in my character's life. Huh.

Then change something in Eorzean history!

 

It doesn't even have to be something major.

 

What if he ate something else for breakfast? What if, for one day, he had no gil!

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Natalie stepped into the ring, the flowers falling around her. It had been years since she'd given up on her dream. Sultansworn? Who would want to be one of those toy soldiers. Her mentor had been disappointed of course, there seemed a certain heaviness to the tall Hyur as she marched off to the frontline.

 

Natalie shook her head and stretched, that didn't matter now. She tried to remember who she was supposed to fight, some Ala Mhigan maybe? She shrugged, "Whoever it is they're dead meat."

 

--------------------------------

 

The battle had been long and bloody, but eventually the giant fell, blood streaming from his many wounds. Natalie herself could barely hold her feet, and watched with red tinged eyes as a lalafell ran out into the arena, crying over the body of her opponent. "Raubahn.... No...."

 

Another Lalafell stepped beside her and put a hand on her shoulder, "Your grace... I believe you have a duty to perform." He said with a exaggerated grin. She turns and glares at him, "Lorilito! You did this... somehow. Raubahn would never... he'd never lose to this."

 

He sighs and shakes his head, "He was moving a little slowly out there... maybe he had a bad breakfast? The coliseum is not known for the quality of food it gives to it's fighters." He clears his throat, "Either way your grace, I believe we had an agreement."

 

She wipes her face with a sleeve and rises, "I won't forget this Lorilito..." She glares at him, and then shifts it to Natalie, "You either." Finally with a shakey voice, "By this fight..." She pauses for a moment, and lorilito whispers to her '...Natalie' She continues "Natalie is now one of the six richest persons in Ul'dah, by my Authority as Sultana I appoint her to the syndicate." There is confused sporadic clapping.

 

Natalie blinks, not sure what is going on as Lorilito approaches her, "Don't worry Natalie, I handled all the details." He grins and pats her leg, "I'm Lorilito, and I think we're going to get along very well together."

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... Believe it or not, I actually can't think of any major "what if" moments in my character's life. Huh.

Then change something in Eorzean history!

 

It doesn't even have to be something major.

 

What if he ate something else for breakfast? What if, for one day, he had no gil!

 

What if he hadn't been cleaved with an axe by Franz?

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((Oh this sounds like a fun challenge.  Alright, I'll give it a try.  Askier if he had never left the Empire 5 years ago.))

 

Askier gazed at himself in the mirror, his brown hair slicked back behind his ears and his Garlean dress uniform was pressed. His face was free of scars and his bushy tail swished to-and-fro in excitement, though his face was covered in a calm smile.

 

He had made it at last.  Captain Mergrey of the Garlean Army, one of the few miqo'te to ever have reached such a rank, and an honor he never would have received if had not been for the political maneuverings of his father-in-law, Adin Adonis.

 

Askier flashed himself a toothy smile then and stood straight.  He recalled that moment, five years ago, when the Calmity had rocked his faith in  the Empire's power.  He had almost fled, almost given up his life here, run with his sister like a coward.  But Adin's adopted daughter, Ashwynn, had talked him out of it.  He had listened to her.  And here he was, five years later, a captain, a husband, a father, an uncle to his sister's children, and well respected for his engineering feats in the realm of explosives. 

 

The miqo'te turned and looked behind him as the door to his office opened.  Askier's office was richly decorated, with deep, mahogany desks and walls, thick, red carpets beneath his feet, and large windows overlooking the city.  Askier smiled as he saw the white-haired miqo'te that stepped through the door.

 

"Master Mergrey, my Master Adonis and Lady Ashywnn are here for you."

 

"Jin'li." Askier replied, his voice polite but stern.  "Please, let them in and then have a seat, you aren't looking well."  It was true, the white-haired slave of his father-in-law was looking sicker and sicker each time Askier saw him.  Askier felt sorry for the frail male.  Adin had told Askier Jin'li wasn't long for this world and Askier would miss the white-haired servant.  Jin'li was the most loyal person Askier had ever met, and certainly the most polite.

 

"This slave is happy to serve, Master Mergrey."  Jin'li said flatly as he then held the door open.  Ashwynn was the first to enter.  Askier looked at his wife and smiled as he saw the small bundle she carried. 

 

The miqo'te couple meet in the middle of the room and kissed for a moment before Askier looked back and gazed into her ice-blue eyes.

 

"And how are the two of you doing?"  Askier inquired with a grin, his teeth flashing.  Ashwynn shrugged playfully. 

 

"Would be better if you were home more, instead of making me drag our daughter up her to see you."  Ashwynn replied, feigning annoyance.  Askier knew she didn't mind that much.  Well, maybe a little.

 

"Well, I'm sure she enjoys the traveling."  Askier replied with a wink as he looked down at his little girl and felt his heart melt as the little face looked back up at him, her mismatched eyes fixed on his own.  One of the little girl's eyes was gold, the other, ice blue.  Askier held the gaze with his daughter for a moment and then looked back up at his wife and gave her another kiss.

 

"Captain Mergrey!"  thundered a voice and the couple separated as Askier lept back and stood at attention.  A tall, elderly Garlean entered the room,  a grey beard on his chin and wrinkles around his three eyes.  The tall man wore the uniform of a Garlean major and marched straight up to Askier.

 

Askier went to give the man a salute, but Adin wrapped the smaller male in a hug and laughed.

 

"You should have seen your face!" Adin chuckled as he released his son-in-law.  Askier gave a sheepish grin as Adin tussled his hair.

 

"When you use that title, I'm not sure if you are addressing me as your relative or subordinate."  Askier admitted.

 

"Well, right now, this is to see my granddaughter spend some time with her father.  I'm taking you out to dinner.  Immediately."

 

"But I need to keep working on the prototype weapon.  If the operation against Ul'dah is-"

 

"Ul'dah?" Ashwynn inquired.  Adin gave Askier a disapproving look and then looked at his daughter.

 

"We'll discuss it over dinner.  I'll send Jin'li to fetch Saravena so she can join us.  Shall we?"  Adin looked at Askier.  Askier knew he couldn't say no, even if he had wanted to.  A free dinner was something he would never pass up. 

 

"Why not?  No place I'd rather be than dinner with my family."  Askier mused as he walked over and took his long, black coat off a peg and slipped it on as Jin'li held the door open for them to leave.  "No place I'd rather be."

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Down the rabbit hole we go!

 

 

 

 

From their camp outside of Ul'dah, Golden Shadow knelt in front of her mother's makeshift throne.

 

"The refugees are on your side, mother. The know that your promises are their only hope."

 

"This is good. The state of Ul'dah is broken. The Mountain has come to them with peace and generosity. I pray things don't turn... violent." A smirk curls the lip of both mother and daughter.

 

Dalamud had fallen merely six months ago. Frost Lotus had watched the chaos from the fortifications in Abalathia's Spine. Her greatest joy, her sole surviving daughter Golden Shadow, had secured the service of every Hellsguard mercenary crew in the Spine. Sex. Coin. Blood. All had changed hands and now an army of Roegadyn warriors and thaumaturges had swept through Thanalan in the chaos after the battle of Cartenau.

 

They provided security to the roads, supplies to the needy. Every settlement came under their banner through force or generosity. The choice was always left to the people. A purple lotus on a black field fluttered on a pole outside the tent as Golden Shadow left her mother to greet an emissary from a power that was not nearly so broken by Cartenau as the three forces of Eorzea.

 

"Rhitahtyn Sas Arvina." Golden Shadow bowed respectfully in greeting. "My mother will be very pleased to meet you." She strides to his side, taking his arm and guiding him into the tent. She leaves shortly after unable to hear the discussion inside, nor the curious proposal her mother has in mind...

 

 

 

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Since im bored and have nothing better to do, I guess ill join in too when I can get the time to  sit down for an hour or two and type something.

 

In all the alternate timeline's though, Inessa die's horribly violent death's so I guess it will be me writing about how I can kill my character in the most gruesome way possible.   xD

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Nothing sounds right, dammit. TAKE SIX, FROM THE TOP.

 

 

How could she possibly know? This poor woman in red. A proud roegadyn warrior, clad in the vestment of her precious Maelstrom. She was clinging helplessly to the stump where her hand had once been attached and looking up at the black shadow of fate. She couldn't possibly have known that years ago, in the immediate fallout of the battle of Carteneau Flats, that she had ordered artillery on anything approaching without Alliance colors. She couldn't have known that trading caravans led by good people had approached with intent to aid those wounded. She could have never known she had willingly rained fire and death down on those who were without homes, who had spent their entire lives trading and traveling.

 

She could have never known that Garlean forces were watching. Those who survived were all too willing to lend their aid. The speeches had been easy. The Alliance, the trio of nations that seemed to only care about protecting themselves, had drawn a line in bodies and fire. They were all too willing to welcome those outcasts into the fold.

 

"Prostrate yourself before the Fist of Solus."

 

The words came sternly through the filter of the specter's helmet. Glowing white eyes watched the simpering roegadyn crawl to something resembling a bow and she openly cried.

 

Legatus Castus looked down on the woman. His years of hard work would finally allow him vengeance. He brought his foot down on the woman's head with a sickening crunch, then turned. His personal war was over. There would always been more skulls to crush in Eorzea, and his role in its conquest was far from over.

 

 

 

Lf5VGvB.jpg

 

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"What if C'rhisi had come home?"

 

 

 

"Push, cousin, push!  I can see the ears, just push."

 

The mother bore down, ears laid flat on her head and tail lashing behind her.  There was soft singing, humming, thrumming, the gentle beat of feet against the earth.  C'rhisi knelt to receive the cub as it finally came, squalling, from it's dam.  Her brow was streaked with blood, mis-matched green eyes bright in the candle light of the small hut.

 

"It's a little girl, cousin, a strong young huntress."  She cut the cord and cleaned the baby, singing a soft song of protection that wrapped around the young spirit to lightly chain it to the tiny body before handing it over to the exhausted mother.  The word was sent out to the waiting Nunh, who paced before the hut, worry plastered across his features and sweat dripping from the ends of his hair.  He sent out a joyous ululation and thrust his sword into the sky and the twilight was filled with celebration.

 

A small, still part of the jali's heart contracted as she began to gather her things, but she smiled and sang and made all the noises she was expected to make.  And if the candles showed some other tableaux in her eyes, some distant Jewel of a city where she had once been surrounded by friends, it was just a flash, just a glimpse, then gone, buried by duty.

 

 

 

"What if Mahvashi's parents had lived?"

 

 

 

The house was set high in the trees and filled with laughter.  She was teaching climbing and tumbling, and her littlest had decided to play a new game where she would climb as high as she dared then leap into the emptiness of air, spinning like a ball only to land in a gigantic pile of leaves.

 

Vashi's laughter filled the autumn air and summoned her mate homeward, the sound of their small brood of troublemaking children as much a part of the village life as the smell of baking bread and the sound of the butcher's knife cutting meat for the communal evening meal.

 

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