Original Ao3 chapter summary:

BAM! Said I'd see you again soon, because I was nearly done with this one, haha!

And now… a chapter of moments in which Joker does Weird Things without meaning to. But what else is new? Also Y'shtola contemplates murdering him. But again— what else is new?

Like the other vignettes, these are all over the palace timeline-wise, but are all in sequential order. The very last one takes place before the ending of chapter 38 of the main fic!

Paladin:

When captain Jenlyns of the Sultansworn has offered to teach Joker the techniques of a Paladin, following his notable services to Ul'dah's crown in the course of his adventuring, it had come with the gifting of Joker's first Soul Crystal.

The captain had held out his palm once their agreement was sealed. And within it lay a faintly shining crystal. A smooth, blue-white stone, bearing its share of nicks and scratches. Its edges had been slowly worn down over time, shaping it into something like an asymmetrical rounded diamond. And carved boldly within its center, still proud despite the age— the stylized image of a simple shield.

Joker reached to take it. And the very moment his fingers brushed the chipped surface, the engraving rough under his fingers, did he feel his mind vibrate.

His senses sharpened immediately. His spine tingled, a new potent sense of awareness of his body subtly compelling him, like an urgent itch, to adjust his stance. He shifted the placement of his feet, finding a new balance upon his toes.

Most prominently came the sudden acute awareness of his sword arm— and the weapon that rested within it. The weight of his new sword— that had mere moments ago been something of an uncomfortable drag, the length of steel far more cumbersome and unwieldy compared to the knives he was used to— now felt perfectly natural. Light, even. The fingers curled upon the haft suddenly fit so snuggly that he couldn't imagine himself ever having not swung such a blade. A potent muscle-memory ingrained as deeply as if he had taken up the sword years ago.

Jenlyns let out a melodic hum as he watched the unusually swift resonance take place, surprised and impressed. His eyes drifted between Joker's face, filled with quiet awe at the new sensations flowing into his body, and the pale stone in his hand.

"I've never seen someone take quite so quickly to a Soul Crystal before. Usually it requires at least a good week of constant immersion to even begin to fully resonate with one…" He frowned thoughtfully, tilting his head, "Have you ever attuned yourself to one before now, Joker?"

And Joker shook his head in response, "No, never." He hadn't even known these stones were an option. If what Jenlyns had said about storing spiritbound physical items within them was true, then these little things may just be the answer to his prayers for fantastically magical alleviation from having to lug all of his new gear around.

Suffice it to say, if he'd known about them before this, he would've looked into them far sooner.

Jenlyns stroked his chin, seeming to weigh up how he should respond. And then he shrugged.

"Well, I suppose it is true that some people take to them more than others, especially if there exist commonalities between the new and previous owner. This can only be a sign of your considerable aptitude." The Sultansworn concluded brightly, raising a finger, "Needless to say, I shan't look a gift Chocobo in the beak! Pray, keep the stone, and we will begin refining your technique right away."

Thaumaturge:

"Enough, Mormo!"

It was Cocobusi who answered to the name shouted by his older sibling, usually so shy and meek expression contorted into a vile sneer.

"Well, well." Whispered the voice of the once-sealed Voidsent with his tongue. The youngest of the thaumaturge brothers had let her take possession of him in what had amounted to a foolish, desperate bid to claim the power he lacked— a plan that had thoroughly backfired, leaving him entirely at the fiend's whims, "If it isn't the eldest of the cowardly thaumaturge brothers! I thought you'd be busy whimpering under your bed, wishing that I'd just disappear!"

But Cocobuki was undeterred by her taunting. He kept his single eye trained on her, face determinedly neutral.

"I've come to offer you a deal." He took a step forward, the water of the flooded cave rippling beneath his boots, "I know you seek the aetheric energy needed to substantiate your true form… but how much time do you intend to waste, feeding on these lesser mages?"

He gestured a hand to the poor captives the Voidsent had claimed, drained of their life's essence and left as corpses sprawled in the water. Mormo tilted Cocobusi's head, the glint of herself that peered through the Lalafell's eyes visibly intrigued— and hungry.

"Compared to these stripling sorcerers and their trembling arcane flames, my power is as a blazing sun." Cocobuki brought his sweeping arm back to his brother's body. Raised his hand, palm up in a gesture of offering

"Would you not prefer to take what I can give you? Drain my strength, and assume your rightful appearance. I am sure you think me a coward, but that is of no consequence. I only wish Cocobusi returned to us unharmed."

His little brother's face twisted into a grin, sharp and triumphant. Mormo threw his head back in a cackle, "Oh, you are wise to acquiesce, mage!"

The Voidsent lunged, grabbing Cocobuki's hand tightly with Cocobusi's. The guildmaster's single eye winced with a flash of pain.

Mormo leaned into his bandaged face, her own stolen one filled with cruel delight.

And then light spilled between them.

Cocobuki's tiny body convulsed, his energy rapidly flowing away. His cheeks paled, growing sallow. His visible eye dimmed, until his hand fell limp from his brother's hold.

And as both thaumaturge's knees buckled, bodies collapsing hard into the water, did a shadow rise from the pooling light.

Mormo snapped open her wings. At last returned to the shape of a horned woman— pale skinned, long dark hair, twisted, sharp nails. She reveled in it. Cackled with delight, roving hands running the length of her body like a tender caress.

"At long last, my true body– my true power- is mine once more!" She crooned, letting purpled flames spill between her gnarled fingers, "I believe a stretching of the old arcane muscles is in order…"

"Oh n-no you don't, V-Voidsent!"

Mormo turned an unamused, pouting glare at a trembling voice. Cocoboha, knees knocking hard enough to send quaking ripples in the water, gripped his staff tightly as he and the remaining siblings rounded the tunnel into the cave— Joker among them.

"We won't let you leave here alive!" Cocobezi snarled, pointing the tip of his scepter. For this was exactly as planned. In this moment, newly materialized into full corporeality and independent of a host, was the Voidsent at her most vulnerable… should they act quickly enough.

Mormo blinked her entirely white eyes. Raised a hand to her mouth in a mocking giggle, "So, you sniveling cowards risk your lives in a valiant rescue attempt? You should not bet what you are not prepared to lose! I shall tear the aether from your very marrow!"

With a shriek that echoed off of the cold stones did she launch herself at the mortals below her, leathery wings spread wide. Dark flames flew from jagged tears rent in the air, falling upon them.

And Joker leapt to the front of the party.

With the manaward Cocobuki had taught him at the ready, he took the blow, letting the aetherial energy flow through him and dispersing it outside of himself, into the water. It thrashed and rippled beneath his feet, agitated and active.

There was a rattle on Joker's breath as his yellowed eyes grew slitted.

Then the water that lapped at the Voidsent's hovering toes erupted upwards. It swirled like a vortex, closing upon her body. Pressing in and holding her tight. Joker snarled, hands webbed, Leviathan's fangs bared and sharp, the Primal's might manipulating the natural element all around them to his favor.

The temperature in the cave plummeted as four skilled thaumaturges drew upon the weakened layers between this world and the Void that Mormo had torn. Umbral ice rippled through the air, coating the rocks in frost. And the entrapping whirlpool rapidly began to freeze over.

The Voidsent threw her head back, screeching, thick layers of entwined ice creeping up to her neck, limbs pinned in place.

"J-just a little more!" Cocoboha's voice shook as he trembled, face growing pale, "We can do this…!"

But their arms were beginning to shake with effort as they dredged up wave after wave of aether. As their increasingly spent bodies began to tire.

And Mormo knew it. She grinned sharply, the ice upon her cheek crackling. Her eyes flashed red.

The sudden stifling presence weighed like a physical force. The air, once intensely vibrating with ice-attuned aether, grew sluggish and tepid. The layers of coiled ice began to tremble.

"She's beginning to suppress the ambient aether!" Cocobezi cried, gritting his teeth, "Damn, damn…! We'll run out of energy to draw on, at this rate!"

Then a small figure behind the Voidsent slowly stirred.

Cocobusi, free of his possessor and gradually regaining consciousness, let out a soft groan. He looked up, dazed and confused— before gasping in shock at the sight ahead of him. His hands fumbled against the slick wet stones as he tried and failed to scramble to his feet, backing away from the frozen Voidsent.

"Cocobusi!" Joker called, voice coming strained, "Finish her off!"

The youngest Lalafell gaped at him, certain he had misheard. His gaze dropped back to his hands in the water. He closed his eyes.

"I can't…" He shook his head, "I'm useless…! I can't!"

"You can!" Leviathan's tail struck the water, "Your brothers need you. Cocobuki needs you!"

"Busi, please!" Cocobygo cried, his grip on his staff beginning to falter under sweat-slicked fingers. The others stared at him, their shared red eyes begging.

The youngest of the thaumaturges turned his head away. His eyes widened as they caught upon a slumped figure— to where their eldest brother lay collapsed against the stones, growing ever paler by the moment.

And Cocobusi's expression hardened.

With renewed resolve did he crawl, scrambling up the slick stones and getting as high above the struggling Voidsent as he could.

Mormo's wings began to quiver, straining against the ice holding her in place. Slowly coming free…

And Cocobusi leapt, hands outstretched and teeth clenched tight.

The Lalafell's body burned, determined eyes bright.

Then came a blaze of purging fire.

Mormo's eyes widened as she watched the searing blue fall upon her, the growing light reflected on her face.

"N-no…" She gasped, "That doesn't… He shouldn't be able to…!"

And then she was engulfed in writhing azure.

It tore through the crackling ice, then through her flesh. The Voidsent wailed in pain as black spilled from her like a vile mist. Until her body, too devoid of aetherial cohesion, fell apart. Her screams faded on the air as her being dissipated to naught but drifting specks.

And with her vanishing was there now nothing to hold Cocobusi up.

He blinked, then let out a shriek as he began to fall.

Joker dove after him, Leviathan's features melting away as he caught the small Lalafell in his arms. They rolled through the water together, skidding to a stop next to Cocobuki's prone figure.

Joker sat up, gasping, drenched hair in his eyes. Cocobusi spluttered and coughed up water, shakily pulling himself from Joker's hold.

Footfalls splashed frantically as the other Lalafells rushed to their brothers' sides. They split up to look the both of them over, faces pale and hands trembling.

"I'm okay!" Cocobusi gasped an answer to their concerned murmurs, "I-I'm okay… Buki— is he…?!"

"He's yet to awaken." Cocobezi murmured, fingers twisting together anxiously.

Though his legs shook fiercely, Cocobusi stumbled towards the others. He dropped to his knees beside the fallen brother. Looked Cocobuki over with an attentive eye, hissing in an intake of breath.

"His aetheric channels have contracted— they are barely sufficient to sustain the flow of his life force. If we do not increase his capacity for aether soon, his vitality will drain away completely." Cocobusi explained in a panicked rush, fumbling fingers desperately among his pouches.

He withdrew a single item— a familiar bright orange potion. One in a series of Cocobusi's desperate attempts to enhance the potency of his own so very limited aether reserves.

"...My mana-amplifying potion. Its potency is limited, but it just might be enough!"

Cocobusi pulled out the stopper with shaking hands. Tipped his unconscious brother's head back, the thick liquid dribbling down his chin as he forced it down his throat.

Together, Joker and the thaumaturges leaned in, anxiously attentive. Cobobusi lowered his head, a pointed ear pressed against Cocobuki's chest– any motion almost imperceptible beneath the layers of his robes.

There was a moment of tense silence. And then he pulled back, breathing out a sigh of relief.

"He's fine!" He turned to his nervous brothers, giving a tired but bright smile, "His aether's stable, and his breathing is steady. All he needs now is rest."

Cocobezi let out a shout of delight. Together, the five brothers threw themselves into a colliding, chaotic hug, a bundle of little robes and hoods, holding each other tight and crying with joy.

With the situation as settled as it was going to get at the moment, they prepared to trudge back to Ul'dah, Joker carried the unconscious Cocobuki in his arms— and basically the rest of them too, their exhausted little bodies all slumped against him to various degrees. He awkwardly stepped around them as they let themselves drag on his coattails. He wished he'd had the foresight to bring Maggie with him, but oh well. At least Joker got to flex his height a little in a world that was otherwise inhabited by some truly ludicrously tall races.

Though Cocobuki had been encouraged by the guild's ever-exasperated receptionist to focus on rest and recovery, the first thing he did upon regaining consciousness was to frantically press his brothers and his star pupil for details. The others were all quite eager to share what had happened, delighted to reveal that it was their littlest and least-aether adept brother than had landed the finishing blow.

Cocobusi simply looked at his hands amidst the vigorous praise as he sat at his brother's bedside. Pulled a face.

"I… I don't know." He murmured, "Whatever it was, I don't think I can do it again. I feel as it was something that could only have happened right in that moment. Perhaps because… because everyone believed in me…?"

He trailed off, voice rising doubtfully. Scratched at his chin.

Cocoboha frowned at him, "That doesn't make any sense."

"Again, I don't know!" He repeated, a hand to his head. He shook it with a soft laugh, "It just… feels as if that's what happened."

Cocobuki sat up in his bed. Gave his younger sibling a soft smile.

"Regardless, the fact is simple: you saved my life. I know that you will find your own path, brother— and that it shall always be at our side, regardless of what it may be. We are family, after all."

The youngest of the thaumaturges clenched his fists hard, hot, relieved tears slipping down his cheeks.

"...And of, course, I should thank you, too. Though I expected no less of one who has physically crossed into the Void itself and lived to tell the tale. You have exceeded all my expectations, Joker."

The guildmaster looked pointedly to his brothers. A look of comprehension flashed on Cocobaha's face before he dashed away.

"In recognition of your outstanding growth as a thaumaturge, I shall impart a gift to you…" Cocobuki continued, gesturing as his brother returned, something clutched tight in his hands.

Within the Lalafell's hold was a purple stone. There were slight swirls of light within its depths, and it was encased in a thin metal outer shell. He held it up triumphantly in his palms.

"Here you are!"

Joker took it from him. He looked it over, squinting.

"Materia!" The Lalafell declared, a glint in his eyes, "We talked about it before, remember? There are many varieties. If your gear– your weapons and armor and the like, is properly bonded to you, then you may draw greater power yet from it via these stones. Perfect for an avid adventurer angling for advantageous adaptivity."

Heh, well. He supposed he was fixing to be something of a 'multi-classer', at this rate. Certainly couldn't hurt.

Joker pinched it tight between his fingers, feeling the faintest hum from within. He brought it to his arm. The vambraces he had pulled over his gloves, specifically made for adventurers, did indeed seem to possess small, specially crafted niches in the sides.

He slotted the materia in smoothly to one of them. It slipped easily into place. Joker flexed his hand. He could already feel the energy inside it buzzing, eager to mix and blend with the aether inside of him.

"A much more practical solution than plucking out an eye, I'm sure you can agree." Cocoboha gave a little hissing cackle between his teeth. Joker pulled a face at him.

"I'm still not sure how serious you are about that."

"Oh it was very much a real practice in times past." Cocobuki gave a grave nod, "And not without its benefits, I might add. Of course, that does remain an option, should you prefer a more… intimate and permanent method of melding."

The guildmaster looked at Joker with what he hoped to be entirely theatrical solemn sincerity, his singular eye especially prominent as he played into the bit. Probably.

…That was just a coincidence, right?

Monk:

The crumbling ruins of Snakemolt rumbled, stones scattering and dust rising as the rippling aftershocks of each great impact shook the earth.

Within the tangled depths of the South Shroud did Joker and Widargelt exchange blow after blow after blow, lips split and bloody, skin peppered with bruises— and expressions focused and fierce.

To the side, Professor Eric watched their intense sparring session closely, his own hands a flurry of motion as they worked the knobs on one of the many aetherometers poised around the ancient battlefield. His eyes darted between the readings across the displays, observing how the rising spikes in activity grew with each passing minute.

The accomplished scientist was convinced that a kind of aether, one presently not well cataloged by even Sharlayan sciences, could be directly agitated into a more detectable form specifically through the heat of combat. And today he was having his two 'pupils' put his theory to the test. In what he declared a mutually beneficial arrangement, he had commanded Widargelt and Joker to practice their pugilistic methods in places where the loss of life was once so great and palpable he believed it to have soaked into the very land itself— namely, the sites of ancient battles.

And Widargelt had been very excited by the idea too. Though Erik seemed repulsed at the notion, what the professor had described was actually astonishingly close to the spiritual beliefs that formed the core tenants of Ala Mhigan monk combat techniques,

"So I obtain the data I require, and you and the monk simpleton are afforded the chance to indulge your— how shall I put it?— charming little backward fantasies about spiritual energies." The professor had explained, dropping the heavy equipment into Joker's arms and dusting his hands, "All are happy."

Snakemolt was but the first of many such sites today, and yet Joker was already feeling the strain in his muscles. Widargelt, accomplished practitioner of the Fists of Rhalgr combat artes that he was, truly knew how to land a devastating punch.

Joker started at yet another lightning-fast fist flying straight for his face. He raised his arm, catching the brunt of it against his vambrace. The force rippled down the length of his arm, but he braced himself against it. Doing exactly as he was taught by a certain Lalafell, he refocused the energy of the blow. Let it flow throw him— down his legs, to where his boots made contact with the earth. Dispelled the rippling energy externally, leaving only the vaguest sting of pain in his arm.

Manaward. A very useful trick indeed. Thank you, Cocobuki.

Widargelt smirked, a touch of pride in his eyes. The two jumped back from each other, poised to pounce again, mutual grins on their faces.

Then Widargelt froze. His eyes flickered to the sides. He let out a hum, muscles tensed in anticipation.

"Almost, brother! Brace yourself!"

Joker nodded. He, too, prepared himself for what was to come, feeling outwards as the now so very energized air practically tingled on his skin.

He closed his eyes. Waited.

And felt—-

Old rage and rancor, lingering still within the earth and air. Fear, thick, thick and cloying, swallowing his senses. Despair— the finality of death, so, so close, as a haunting specter. And threaded through it all, so prominent he can almost taste it— bloodlust.

Joker claps a hand over his mouth and nose, senses ringing with the phantom iron tang of steel and blood. Of a fury that isn't his own thrumming through his veins.

He feels Widargelt peer into his eyes, but doesn't see him. The sensations threaten to blot out everything else— Not unlike what he experiences when taking in a Primal. A nearly complete and total resonance of himself with the ambiguous threads of memory and thought and feeling that shred into his mind. He can feel the earth beneath his unsteady feet dance, hear the stars so far above start to murmur and whisper and sing…

"Do not lose yourself."

At a familiar voice does he slowly come down from the frantic whirlwind that grips and tosses his mind, grounding himself at the sound of gentle murmuring, the feel of a strong hand at his back.

"Steady, brother." WIdargelt says softly, "Steady. Breathe. Focus."

He does so, gasping for air. His eyes slowly start to properly see the stones and trees and crumbled stairs again. He steadies his breath, gaze drifting wide and questioning to the monk's face.

"As I thought." Widargelt nodded, looking proud, "You are very sensitive to it."

He distantly hears Erik— irritated and vaguely concerned— bark at Widargelt to set him down. The monk complies, gently aiding Joker to take a seat upon one of the more stable remaining steps. Joker shook his head.

"What was that? Some kind of aether?" He asks, gulping back the rising bile that still burns at his throat.

Widargelt hums again. Glances aside.

"It is distinct from aether. Something different. Emotion permeates every ilm of it. It sings with our hearts. Opens our very selves wider. Chakra, we once called it."

"Bah, not this bloody nonsense again!"

From the corner of his eye did Joker spy Erik striding up to them, his hands on his hips and shaking his head, "How many times must I tell you?" He chided, "What you describe is naught but a kind of more imperceptible aether. Call it what it is!"

He carried on with his tirade, not for the first time loudly decrying the 'superstitions' of Ala Mhigan spirituality. Widargelt let the man rant without response, head turned away and expression placid. Joker groaned mentally, already half-tuning him out— as was becoming customary when the irritable professor got like this. He rested his chin in his hands as Erik continued, unphased by the increasingly detached attention of his audience.

"…And of course, we must remember that our most dimwitted companion here is the Eikon Eater, to use the rather grandiose but not entirely inaccurate Garlean epithet . He is known to resonate with the aether of Primals in a unique and peculiar way. I may not know the means by which he does so, but I would wager his experience just now was but something similar— And not your ludicrous and outmoded notions of 'Chakra'."

At last spent with his verbal onslaught— or perhaps realizing that no-one was really listening to him— Erik finished up his attempt at furious re-education with a clap of his hands, dusting them off.

"But enough of that. Your… unique perspective aside, the results nonetheless speak for themselves. We now have enough data from this site. Onto the next— Larkscall, East Shroud. Come along now, dullards, hop to it!"

And Erik promptly turned on his heel, headed in the direction of their carriage as he swiped at the lenses of his glasses with a cloth.

Joker looked to Widargelt. The ever-calm man gave an easy shrug.

"We will do as Master bids. To the next site. We will try again. We will be properly ready when next you open yourself to the Chakra."

Joker nodded, pushing aside the flicker of hesitance that lingered in his chest. Joined Widargelt in scooping up Erik's equipment, loading it onto the back of the carriage as they prepared to set out again for the next ancient battlefield.

As he closed the lid of a crate on a partially dismantled and very hefty aetherometer, Joker let his eyes drift up to the blue sky peeking between the leaves. It almost seemed, for just a moment, that he could spy a brief glimmer of the cosmos beyond the veil of daylight.

And Joker swore he could still hear the faintest sound from the stars.

Ninja:

"Right." Oboro announced, coming to a halt. He and his comrade, a young woman named Tsubame who was likewise dressed in the same dark blue mail and leathers as himself, turned to Joker, who had trailed behind them as they'd led him to a small clearing. The long, broad leaves characteristic of the tropical trees of Raincatcher Gully glistened under the light of the full moon, beams spilling between the fronds and casting sharp shadows upon the lush jungle grass. "This spot will suffice."

For the sake of practice, the two Shinobi had decided to move away from the rather rickety storehouse left abandoned at the very edge of the territory that technically fell within Brayflox's Longstop. Joker wondered if the enterprising Goblin merchant was at all aware that one of her more dilapidated storage sheds was currently being occupied by a pair of Doman Ninja as a hideout during their covert operations in Eorzea— the exact specifics of which Joker did not currently know.

Regardless, he wasn't too concerned. Yugiri's had staunchly vouched for her countrymen's credibility as masters of their Far Eastern art, and he was very eager to learn all he could. There was substantial overlap between a Phantom Thief and a Ninja, after all.

"In a sense, the basics of Ninjutsu techniques can be likened to a kind of teleportation magic." Oboro explained with a straight back and an authoritative air, deepening his voice a little as he put on a tone that he must have figured suited an experienced teacher with a new student. But young as he was (not that much older than Joker himself, really), it fell a bit flat.

Tsubame snickered very softly behind his back. Just a little.

Oboro cleared his throat before continuing, "But, ah, the nature of it is inherently somewhat volatile. Therefore, before you learn to use it upon yourself, it would be wiser to learn to teleport simple, more transmutable subjects— like common aetherial elements."

Stepping into the moonlight, Oboro snapped his legs together, adopting a stiff stance. His gloved fingers began to move, weaving a pattern in the air that left a visible trail of aether with each deliberate motion. And when he brought his fingers together did they crackle with a burst of heat.

Satisfied, Oboro raised a hand, a ball of fire blooming in his palm. After a moment of quiet admiration did Oboro flick away the flame, letting it sputter out. Gestured his now empty hand at Joker as if to say 'now you'. Tsubame stepped back with a quiet 'good luck' and a small smile.

And Joker raised his hands exactly as he'd been shown. Took a deep, steadying breath. He let his fingers move in the same purposeful motions as Oboro had done before, simultaneously swift and jerky, yet smooth and flowing, jumping from one form to the next. He felt his fingers tingle at the tips, buzzing with aether. But he kept his breathing even. His mind focused and sharp, yet blank and malleable. Exactly as Oboro and Tsubame had taught him earlier.

Or so he hoped, anyway…

He pulled his fingers together in the final, definitive motion, aether trailing in the wake of his hands. His eyes snapped open.

There was a beat of silence.

Then a puff of smoke.

And something was on his head.

Whatever it was, it was small and soft and vaguely chittering. It shuffled for a moment, mussing Joker's hair. And then it jumped. Joker instinctively put out his hands to catch it, finding himself peering into the bright red eyes of a very soft albino bunny rabbit. Flopped ears and cotton tail and all. It looked a little dazed as it sat in his cupped palms.

He blinked at it. It blinked back, tilting its head.

"...Um–"

There was another burst of smoke in the air above him, manifesting with an audible 'poof'. And Joker stiffened as a second rabbit spontaneously appeared atop his fluffy head.

This one gave a soft little trill much like the first. Joker awkwardly bent down to lower the original to the ground, picking up the other by the scruff of its furry neck.

Still crouching, Joker set the second bunny down next to the first, where it pranced in the grass merrily with its fellow. Head low, he turned, utterly baffled, to the sight of Oboro's kyahan as a third bunny made a slightly explosive appearance. And then a forth, balancing awkwardly atop the one beneath it. Joker tried to open his mouth to speak, only to have it interrupted with yet another poof. And rabbit number five tipped its little neck back to blink blearily into the moonlight from its new perch above the rest.

"Oboro…" Joker said very slowly, gradually lifting his head up. Rightly so, for a sixth rabbit soon appeared in a cloud of smoke, stacked very precariously atop a pile of four. Joker had to peer around a rising totem pole of fluffy cottontails to get a glimpse of Oboro's startled face, "I keep making bunnies…?"

Oboro and Tsubame both knelt down. Oboro put a troubled hand to his chin while Tsubame cooed softly at the rabbits frolicking at her feet. The more senior ninja quietly studied the ones on Joker's head, gently pulling on one of the topmost bunny's floppy ears, expression utterly perplexed and a little amused.

"I… I don't know what to tell you." He replied, exchanging a slightly worried glance with Tsubame as she scooped a rabbit up in her arms. It settled happily and completely harmlessly in her hold, chewing on a blade of grass it had plucked, "I've never seen an effect like this before."

The startled Shinobi drew back as the bunny he prodded cautiously at jumped off Joker's head to make room for a seventh. This one promptly lost its precarious footing, tumbling down his face, paws kicking as it held onto Joker's bangs for purchase and entirely blocked out his sight with white fuzz.

"I think I messed up." Joker's voice came muffled against a fluffy little tummy, feeling a little on the verge of tears.

"Oh, I don't know." Tsubame hummed, having gathered up a good three rabbits now. She gently encouraged the one hanging from Joker's bangs to drop into her arms with the rest, "I think they're rather lovely."

One began to nibble curiously on the toe of Joker's boot. He knelt down, picking it up by the scruff. Peered into its little red eyes.

"I guess I can find a use for them? Never know when you can… I don't know… unleash a bunny attack?"

Tsubame giggled with delight at the thought, awkwardly balancing the rabbits in her arms as she wobbled with laughter.

Oboro crossed his arms. He hummed doubtfully.

"Per… Perhaps? But I think it wiser that we try to focus on having you master more conventional forms."

Fair enough.

The shiboni cleared his throat as a rabbit launched itself at his hakama. It began determinedly trying to climb its way to Oboro's head along the beaded cords tied to his obi.

"We'll, uh, try again?"

Arcanist:

Tataru had been down lately.

He had expected the young Lalafell to be delighted by the news of the coming banquet, perhaps expressing how eager she would be to hear all about the fabulous clothes the guests were wearing. Or perhaps she would pout a little, playfully complaining about the surely marvelous dishes she would be missing out on.

But while she had given him a smile, her reaction when Joker had told her of the celebrations to come was clearly forced. Regularly distracted and pensive of late, the girl clearly had something very heavy on her mind.

It hadn't been bitterness at not being invited— Joker could sense that, somehow. Whatever the problem was, it was deeper than that. A fundamental discontent.

Minfilia had shared his concern.

"Yes, Tataru hasn't at all been herself." Minfilia chewed at a fingernail as she flipped through the ledgers on her desk, "I've never known her to sigh so often… I hesitate to ask this of you, but do you think you could… perhaps investigate what occupies her mind so? I fear she would try to keep the answers from me to spare me the trouble. But she has grown so very attached to you of late."

And Joker had accepted the request, equally concerned for their mutual friend. Tataru had been visibly put-out even as late as this morning, her mind clearly elsewhere while she'd distractedly helped Joker brew the first round of communal coffee. He hadn't heard so much as a vague hum from the receptionist all day, her dejected face so often turned to the window instead.

Which was why Joker had sneakily tailed on her suspiciously unannounced visit that afternoon to Costa del Sol.

He felt a bit bad for it, secretly spying on a friend. 'Friend'… Yes, a part of him had been a bit hesitant to accept the Scions as such at first, some vague squirm in his heart somehow perceiving it as a betrayal to the Thieves— which was stupid, of course. He could have more than one set of close friends. The addition of one did not diminish the other in any way. But hearts were irrational, fickle things, and it had hurt him to… to 'replace' his family. To find companionship elsewhere during his involuntary absence from them.

But after everything in these nearly seven months as a fellow Scion, Joker could not deny by now that friends they were. And Tataru, so very sweet as she was, was undeniably especially dear to him.

So it was both out of concern and sheer curiosity that Joker decided to watch how things played out as Tataru furtively scanned the length of the sunny beach, now with a very large grimoire in her hands.

Joker ducked between the branches of a decorative row of bushes bearing bright hibiscus flowers— ones that he knew from experience with a certain inspector made for a pretty solid hiding place. The branches of the one he slipped into were even still a little bent in the center— poor thing.

He scanned the scene before him between the leaves poking into his face, tensed in preparation.

"Ah, good. You're here. Are you ready to begin, Miss Tataru?"

Awaiting Tataru was a Miqo'te woman— one that was more than a little familiar. Silver hair, light brown skin, flashing teal eyes that emphasized the slit of her pupils. She bore more than a passing resemblance to Y'shtola, even including the striped clan markings on her cheeks.

"Ready, Miss Rhul!"

And the same surname. Joker supposed he shouldn't be surprised— Miqo'te tribes were apparently known to produce a lot of daughters.

Any further speculations on the woman's relation to his colleague were interrupted by the arrival of an agitated wavekin. A very large crimson crab, scuttling towards the two upon the beach with a territorial wariness.

Joker frowned at the red-shelled Snapper. Ugh. He'd had enough of crabs lately…

Tataru, however, seemed to be quite eager for the chance to prove herself. The pages of her tome flew open in a sudden magicked wind. She put the tip of a quill to the blank paper, ink that shimmered with infused aether sparkling in her wake as she drew out a complex sigil with a great flourish.

And from the swirling magic did a familiar little bunny-eared creature begin to form, a bright red jewel on its forehead, its fur shimmering a dazzling aquamarine.

"Beat 'em with a Backdraft!
 Gut 'em with a Gust!
Deck 'em with a Downburst!
Go, Carbuncle, go!"

Tataru finished the summoning with a flourish, her new little familiar's moveset apparently ingrained into her memory through the classic mnemonic of a catchy tune.

The manifested Carbuncle dropped to the ground on digitigrade legs, now fully corporeal. It blinked shimmering eyes, staring into the world it had suddenly been born into with mild confusion.

"Now," Tataru's new coach in the ways of the arcane put out a commanding hand, "Give your familiar an order. Test its mettle against this foe!"

Tataru gave her best fierce grin— though it came off as more adorable than anything.

"A simple Snipper's nothing against us! We're ready for them, aren't we, Carbuncle?!"

She let out a cheer for her new friend, her hands curled into excited little fists.

With a squeak, her bunny-fox companion bounded forward, fur bristling. The giant enemy crab drew up short at its display of aggression, claws pensively snipping at the air in warning.

The little creature stared down its snapping opponent. It crouched low, tails flared wide, eyes narrowed.

And then promptly bolted in the opposite direction, squealing.

"Wait, no! Come back! Come baaa-aack!" Tataru wailed, futilely attempting to chase after it as it scampered away. The Miqo'te stared after the two of them, blinking.

"Curious. I've never seen a reaction quite like that before."

The Carbuncle continued its frantic bid for freedom, leporine legs kicking up sand as it bounded towards a certain conspicuous row of plants.

And Joker impulsively dove from the bushes, stomach sliding across the sand as he snatched up the Carbuncle mid-leap with a triumphant cry.

"Gotcha!"

The little creature squeaked and squeaked, thrashing in his hold as he twisted his torso to awkwardly kick himself onto his back.

"Whoa, hey there!" He cried as its many tails beat at his face, "Come on, little guy, don't be like that! I want to be friends! I mean you no har̶m̵̖̌͒—"

There was a spark— a jolt of something like electricity, flitting through his chest.

And as Joker held the struggling creature up above him did the Carbuncle begin to change.

It froze, the jewel on his forehead lighting up. The blue began to drain from its fur as sweeps of scarlet spilled like paint from the tips of its ears to its tiny toe beans. Until the creature had entirely become a bright red, almost as vivid as the gemstone upon its brow.

And Joker blinked as the now rubeline Carbuncle abruptly and drastically settled, flopping with sudden passivity in his hold. He bounced the limp creature in his arms as its ears dropped.

"You… You good there, buddy?"

It trilled happily at him, snout attempting to nuzzle against his chest.

Utterly baffled, Joker turned his head to the shadows that fell across him. An astonished Tataru, followed by the Miqo'te woman— who seemed more casually perplexed than anything.

"J-J-Joker!" Tataru squeaked in alarm, far, far too belatedly trying to hide her grimoire behind her back, "This is…! It isn't— I um— oh!"

Desperately trying to deflect, she dropped her book and threw out her hands to the puzzled woman at her side, "This is Y'mhitra! She's Y'shtola's sister!"

As he'd suspected. Joker mumbled a vague greeting around the sand in his mouth as he awkwardly wriggled his way to his feet while keeping the limp and very red Carbuncle in his hands. He held it against his chest, wrapping it tight in his arms. Not that it seemed to be planning on going anywhere now.

Y'mhitra gave him a polite nod, hand upon her hip. Sister, huh? It was strange to think of Y'shtola as being at any point a normal little girl with a family and siblings and everything. Easier to think she'd just spawned fully-formed from a cauldron somewhere.

Tataru's anxiously stiff shoulders slumped. She gave a defeated sigh, "I suppose there's no point keeping mum now, is there? Y'mhitra is a practitioner of an advanced form of Arcanima. Y'shtola mentioned that her sister was in Eorzea now that the Sons of Saint Coinach are moving onto a new study. A different set of Allagan ruins or somesuch. And…" She paused for a moment, shuffling sheepishly, "I thought perhaps she could teach me the basics."

Y'shtola's sister stepped forward, giving an acknowledging nod. She looked between Joker and the red Carbuncle settled in his arms with a very familiar curious glint to her teal eyes.

"So. Eorzea's 'Warrior of Light', I see. My older sister has spoken of you."

Though she kept her expression placid, her eager eyes roamed over him, studying him like he was a specimen in a lab. Adding the slitted pupils into the equation and Joker's 'prey animal' instincts were flaring hard enough to urgently prickle his neck. He couldn't resist leaning back a little, a cold sweat beginning to break out under his collar.

A genetic trait, it seemed…

He cleared his throat, "And, uh… How old are you, if you don't mind me asking?"

Y'mhitra seemed confused– and possibly a little offended, if the slight flicker of annoyance across her features was any indication. But she answered all the same.

"I have seen twenty-six summers." She replied evenly, "Why?"

"Oh, no reason." Joker answered airily. He dropped his head as she moved to examine the flopped Carbuncle more closely, muttering a very quiet 'fucking knew it' into his collar.

Y'mhitra reached out for the Carbuncle's paw. Gave the limp little bunny beans an experimental shake. The sleepy creature let out another little trill, entirely without fight.

"Fascinating…"

"I um… I think I broke him." Joker winced, juggling it a little, "I don't know. I'm sorry."

Tataru drooped, her arms dangling, "I suppose it's yours now… It certainly seems to prefer you to me, anyway. Didn't listen to a word I said."

Did it even work like that?

"I do seem to be attracting a lot of bunnies lately." Joker mused aloud, gently setting the Carbuncle down. It curled one of its tails around his feet, "…Does the little guy have a name?"

"I only just summoned him, so no…" Tataru hummed a little, "You've made him all red like your gloves now… I guess we'll call him Joker."

"Hey," Joker pointed said gloved finger at her, " You can't take my codename!"

"You took my Carbuncle!"

"I'm a thief, is it really so surprising?"

"Well why don't you think of one, then, Mister Phantom?"

And Joker's eyes brightened in a sudden flash of delight. If he'd been a Miqo'te then his ears surely would've perked right up.

It was time!

"Ketchup." He answered, almost a little breathless.

Tataru blinked at him, "Ketchup?"

"Ketchup!" He repeated, hands in excited fists, mimicking Tataru's gesture from before.

It was something he'd suggested as a codename for the Phantom Thieves multiple times, and they'd never once let him so much as entertain the idea, with Ann in particular shutting him down hard. For some reason. Absolutely no taste, the cowards!

Tataru gave a shrug, a crooked smile on her face. Then it fell. Despondent, she looked to the ground, a glimmer of tears dancing across her eyes.

"It's just… I- I thought that maybe I could learn to fight too. With you and the others. But I couldn't even get a simple Carbuncle to listen to me. I was wrong to try to become an Arcanist. Wrong as usual. I am completely and utterly unqualified, and I sincerely apologize for wasting your time, Y'mhitra."

She let out a sniffle, balled fists clutching at her tabard.

And Joker's heart melted.

Giving a soft smile, he knelt down to the Lalafell's level. Put a hand atop her beret.

"Oh, Tataru." He murmured softly, "You don't need to fight. I promise you, it's… it's not as glamorous as it seems from the outside."

"But I… I want to make sure you all stay safe! I'm sick of staying behind while you risk your lives!" Her voice rose into a soft wail, tears finally breaking free and spilling down her chubby cheeks.

Joker gently took one of her hands in his own. Gave it a soft pat, "I understand— I really do. But that's not the only way to help. And frankly, you already do so much for us. I don't think the Scions would even be running without you!"

Though she endeavored to rein in her sobs, Tataru was still clearly skeptical. She sniffled loudly, the toe of her boot digging into the sand.

And Joker decided to draw upon anecdotal evidence— the best kind of evidence.

"I've… spoken about my team before, right? Back home?"

Tataru gave a brief, tentative look to Y'mhitra before she nodded.

"One of my friends— Oracle. She was our group's navigator. Her Persona wasn't suited for combat, but it could do so many other things. Analyze enemy weaknesses, map out paths, detect traps… She never fought, but I'd argue she was the most important person on the team! Trust me, we were doing a really, really awful job winging it before she joined." He gave a wink. Tataru giggled wetly, rubbing at her nose with the back of her hand.

"I concur." Y'mhitra offered, rising from where she'd moved on to prodding Ketchup's snout, "We must all come to accept our limitations, lest our ambitions lead us astray. However, we must not lose sight of our strengths in the process. For example," She added, tapping at her chin in a most Y'shtola-ry fashion, "Miss Tataru, your exceptional skill with numbers helped you to gain a rapid and very solid grasp of the fundamentals of Arcanima. Were it not so, you would have struggled even to summon the Carbuncle to your side. In my opinion, the Scions are truly fortunate to have such a capable and good-natured receptionist in their service. Would you not agree?" She finished, teal eyes flashing as she looked to Joker for confirmation.

And Joker nodded fervently, hands curled into eager fists once again in a manner very reminiscent of Tataru herself.

"Absolutely! Tataru, I can barely even read Eorzean script. Do you think I'd be any good at what you do?"

The Lalafell gave a watery little snort, "I truly can't say that I can easily imagine you with pen and paper in hand, taking notes."

… Well, she might be surprised about that. But that would involve bringing up his recent exploits as Hildibrand Manderville's assistant-assistant. Which would take a long time to begin to set the stage for, so he'd save explaining all of the… that for another time.

Regardless, the pep-talk seemed to have had a marked impact upon the Lalafell's mood.

"Focus more on my strengths…" She murmured, a hand to her chin.

Then her eyes brightened. Her head shot up.

"You know… While we're here, there might be something I can do for you! Hold on just a bit!"

She reached down and pulled off her boots, leaving them scattered in the sand, And then she was racing away, her little feet splashing through the water as she frantically followed the shoreline.

…Leaving Joker alone with Y'mhitra Rhul.

The Miqo'te crossed her arms, a gentle smile on her face.

"She has far more talent that she gives herself credit for." Her tail flicked, "Full glad am I that you were able to raise her spirits. But now I find my mind drawn to other matters."

Joker couldn't say he cared for the familiar glint in her eye, no…

"If you'll forgive me," Y'mhitra began, taking a bold step forward into his personal space, "I have heard a great many things about you from Master Rammbroes… A most curious case indeed. In all my studies, I have never once encountered a subject, no matter how proficient in the summoning artes, capable of bearing more than three familiars from a Primal's aether."

She trailed a nail up his chin, gaze intensifying. He tried not to shiver, "Nor have the beings constructed from the attuned aether been on a scale even close to their original source. And yet here you stand— a veritable beastly pantheon at your beck and call, from what I hear."

She leaned in yet further, slitted pupils contracting. Dread clawed down Joker's spine, "Not to mention that most intriguing case with the Carbuncle just now… I shall have to study the both of you."

Cold sweat beading on his forehead, Joker gulped.

By the time the sun had begun to sink below the ocean's horizon line, Y'mhitra had taken to quietly humming to herself, rapidly scrawling notes in her dog-eared logbook.

And at her feet lay Joker. He was splayed out on the ground, damp from sweat, face withered from being thoroughly drained of aether. The newly christened and equally weary Ketchup was curled atop his stomach, dozing peacefully like Morgana used to do.

The dutiful scholar had more than put Joker and his new pet through their paces, running just about every experiment she could think of to test the limit of his abilities and observe the fluctuations in his aetherial signature. Whatever she got out of it must have been fascinating, for she seemed utterly enraptured, green eyes bright as she poured eagerly over her notes.

Joker's leg twitched weakly. Here he thought being 'drained' by a beautiful older catgirl might be a fun experience, and yet— No! No, no— No more thoughts like that! She might hear him somehow!

"I'm back!"

Tataru returned with the padding of wet feet, She chuckled as Joker awkwardly shifted out from under his sleepy new familiar.

"And speaking of things that are shiny and red— take a look at these!"

Joker sat up as she opened her hands. Resting in dripping wet palms bearing a plethora of small scratches were a small pile of deep red pearls.

"Blood pearls!" Tataru cheered, "There's a certain variety of clam which can be harvested this time of year in Bloodshore─ one which produces the most marvelously red pearls! I learned about them from a man at the Drowning Wench. Morbid name aside, they're actually thought of as a trinket for bringing good luck. They were treasured as wards against dark magicks in ancient times."

Joker took one from her. He held it up, rolling it between his fingers. Its color was especially vibrant against the afternoon sun.

"I thought I might make charms for everyone… so that no matter where they go, they will always come home. It's sort of the power to defend myself and other people… in a way." Tataru's fingers curled over the bundle in her palms, "And that includes you too! I figure of all of us you could use them the most. Seeing as how you're always doing such dangerous things and… and since you're so far away from your home and all."

Joker handed the one he'd snatched back, smiling.

"Sounds great. Count me in."

As the sun slowly began to slink behind the ocean, Joker and Tataru worked together to string the pearls on colorful braided cords. Y'mhitra even got in on it, weaving a few together before she decided her work here was probably done for the day, taking her leave with her new notes on Joker's aetherial physiology clutched tight to her chest.

When Tataru was completely satisfied with the first of the charms, she handed it over to Joker, eyes sparkling with anticipation. He took it gratefully, clipping the string of pearls to one of the belts at his waist.

Tataru took a step back, nervously awaiting his reaction. Perhaps afraid that he would find the sentiment silly.

Joker twisted this way and that, admiring how the vivid red glimmered in the light of the afternoon sun. He turned back to her, face almost as bright.

"I love them." He beamed with genuine delight, "Really. I'll wear them all the time."

Joker knelt down to her level. His smile grew soft, crinkling his eyes. "Thank you, Tataru."

The Lalafell put her pudgy hands together, blushing a little from embarrassment at his enthused praise.

"I'm so happy to hear that! I swear, I'll make enough for everyone back at the Rising Stones— including Hoary and Coultenet and the Domans… I wonder if the children will like them?"

With an extremely enthused Tataru determined to gather as many blood pearls as she could physically find, Joker took that as his cue to leave her to it. He called the Carbuncle over, experimentally offering a hand. Its red paw met his equally red gloves, blinking up at him owlishly. And then it faded to sparkling aether, swirling up his hand and to his chest. With great ease was Ketchup drawn into Joker's mask with all the rest of the aetherial residents in his soul. He felt the sleepy little creature shimmer in his heart like a tiny precious jewel.

Tataru, already knee-deep in the ocean again, waved her arms, "Thank you so much for today, Joker! Pray convey my apologies to the Antecedent for troubling her! And tell her… Tell that she needn't worry about me— I'm going to be just fine!" She added, smiling wide.

Summoner (?):

Joker returned to the Rising Stones that evening with good tidings for Minfilia re: Mission 'Tail Tataru'— and a fresh new Carbuncle bundled in his arms for show.

The Antecedent was much relieved. And Tataru's mood was similarly thoroughly lifted by the time she had returned, merrily humming her tunes to herself as she braided cords through a sizable batch of bright red pearls. Which left a very accomplished Joker free to flop in his favorite chair by the fireplace. Ketchup, still loopy from being partially transmogrified by unknown means, curled up in his hold like a cat or especially floppy lap-dog.

He scratched idly at the Carbuncle's head, causing it to let out something like a purr. Did rabbits purr? He didn't think so. The ninja-bunnies didn't. But who could say what the physiology of a magic bunny-fox was?

At the lounge adjacent to him did he spy Y'shtola. A sly grin stretched across his face. She kept her eyes fixed on the page she pored over, determinedly reading her book even as he tried to subtly catch her attention with pointed coughs.

Okay, so fuck subtlety.

"So…" Said Joker, stretching out his legs and drawling out his 'o's, "Interesting fact! I met one of your sisters today."

"Did you now?"

"One of your younger sisters."

"That would most likely be Mhitra, I'd wager."

"Yep. And the funny thing is, I asked how old she was—"

"Oftentimes considered an extremely rude and highly impertinent question to ask of a woman, but do go on."

"…And she said she was twenty-six."

Joker knew he was well and truly dancing with death at this point, but the adrenaline-seeking part of himself couldn't help but keep twirling.

Y'shtola, likewise, continued to follow through with her own steps in this dangerous dance, utterly undaunted.

"Correct. Your point being?"

"Well, I'm just questioning the chronology of it all, seeing as you're apparently twenty-three." He tented his fingers innocently, "Are there some space-time shenanigans here I should be aware of? Inquiring otherworldly minds wish to know!"

For the second time today did a sense of dread trail like cold fingers down his back.

Y'shtola closed her book with a firm snap.

"Time… yes. Under certain circumstances, one may find that the hands of the horologe are ever stopped at 'two' and 'three'." She smiled, observing him from the corner of her eye as she stood up. Joker felt the chill creeping down his spine strengthen once more to the sting of icy claws, "And a young man like you would do well to remember that."

"Yes ma'am." He croaked, shrinking behind the popped collar of his coat. Ketchup reciprocated his fear, burrowing against him with a trail of raised hairs running down the length of his back.

Original Ao3 endnotes:

The origin of Ketchup…

As we know from P5, Joker loves the trinkets his friends give him. Loves them. And when he says he'll wear something all the time he fucking means it... as a certain girl and her pink ribbon will learn. ;D

Also, don't worry– Joker will meet Karasu eventually!

Bonus sketch: Doesn't even realize he's doing it