Hydaelyn Role-Players

((Grouping multiple scenes into this thread for convenience. Scenes will be listed in newest -> oldest order)) 

((Note: I'm still getting used to the RP scene here. If I make a post that seems off, or appears to be godmoding/metagaming, please let me know. It was most likely unintentional, and we can work towards a resolution of continuity if it occurs))

#### CURRENT SCENES ####
The Day After [Journal Entries]

--------PAST SCENES--------
Rebuilding a Life Lost [Journal Entries] : Starting from Post 59, ends post 64
[Echo of the Past Scene [Closed] : Starting from Post 24 in this thread]
[A Mercenary Unhired Scene [Closed] : Following Balmung Bulletin Board Post 74]

-------Ancient Intro from Way Back---------

The Unnamed Mercenary sat down at one of the free tables. Looking around the Quicksand, there was not a single person he recognized. But that was pretty normal. He wouldn't know them anyway. He knew had amnesia, but this was ridiculous. Flagging a staff down, he made his wants clear. "Hey, I want an ale". There probably wouldn't be anyone looking to hire a mercenary for anything today either.

Natalie tromped though the crowded bars, everyone giving her a wide berth in her rusty red armor. She knew what the news of their actions against Aya had spread like wildfire, and she also knew she could care less at the moment. She simply wanted to get drunk and escape her burgeoning sense of dread.

Several tables were half full, but as she approached the looks of disdain and disgust caused her to pause. Finally she spy's someone who looked as disgruntled and surly as she felt. "Hey there big guy" she says pulling out a chair, "I'm sitting here."

The Unnamed Mercenary slouches in his chair a bit, "I thought you people have patrols to do", taking a heavy swig of his ale. He was glad the halfmask he wore didn't cover his mouth. He wondered to himself if this person person would be as interesting to play around with as Kage. It'd at least give him something to do. He glanced the Miqo'te women, he figured she was probably half his size and half his age. Could she even fight?

She drops her helmet onto the table and flags down a server. They approach nervously, and bring her an ale with trembling hands. "Gods..." Natalie thanks the woman and she scurries off.

She chuckles at his comment, "I thought someone your size would have pies to eat." she kicks her feet up onto the table. "Did your mask come like that?" She smirks at him,
"Or did you eat the bottom?"

"She'll do just fine", he thought. Clearly, the Miqo'te was trying to get him riled up. 
"Do /I/ look like someone who's got the gil for that?", this time, making eye contact with her, at least from his point of view. He pointed to the mask with an index finger, "This thing was made this way." 

He knew the mask was important for some reason. The message that came with it when he first woke up after being dumped in the desert had said so. While it wasn't exactly a "gift", of the couple memories he did have, he knew that even if a certain woman wasn't after his life, the people below her might be. "People don't tend to remember me, so what's the point of them seeing my face?". 

He'd see how far this "conversation" would last. Maybe if he was lucky, his favorite target would walk in as well. Luck had been on his side lately. Or least least everything but financially. No aether mishaps, the one person he was uncomfortable around hadn't asked of anything, what could go wrong?

Taking another heavy gulp of the ale again, he put the mug down on the table and leaned over a bit.

She grins and sips her ale, "You must have had the money..." she waves her hand at his hulking frame, "All of you came from somewhere. Somewhere like a patisserie."

She gulps more ale, leaning back and enjoying the sensation. Life had been so complicated lately, but this felt so simple. Gazing curiously upon his mask, "People don't remember you...?" she laughs, "Well then I'll break that trend."

"I'm Natalie. What should I call you?"

He couldn't believe the words flying out of her mouth. Not only was she making fun of him, but she was calling him...overweight? If this went any further, he was sure to snap. There was a limit to how much he could take.


He felt a surge and realized he was probably draining a lot of the residual aether in the area. Hopefully there weren't any aether-sensitive people around. He did t really feel like having to deal with that. It had been nice being in control while it lasted.


"Excuse me?" He was still hung up on the pastry comment.

"I'm suprised you're so hard of hearing, did some of the pastries make it into your ears as well as your mouth?"

She pauses and regards him for a moment.

"Porkchop."

"Porkchop..." she says it again, as if testing the feel of the name, then looks at him and nods, "I'll call you Porkchop."

Porkchop? PORKCHOP? If his face had been visible, Natalie would have seen one of his eyes twitching. Was this really what he'd been reduced to? He was a proud Garlean soldier, even if the army was still out to kill him. 

He couldn't take it any longer. 

In a quick motion, he'd overturned the table with one hand, and sent the other with a first straight at the Miqo'te. 

"WHO THE BLOODY HELLS ARE YOU CALLING A 'PORKCHOP'?!" Simply put, he'd finally snapped. And as almost expected, the artificial aether unit was back to leaking heavy amounts of aether that had been passively gathered for some time. A few small shards of bright orange over-aspected aether could be seen falling around him. 

Who cares if it made a scene? She was /asking/ for it!

Natalie grins and leans to the side, dodging the cascade of dishes sliding off the table, and makes a strange gurgling noise as his fist impacts her face. Her chair rocks back for a moment, balancing on two legs, before it lazily falls downward.

She lies still for a moment, the only movement the trickle of blood from a single nostril, before her eyes snap open. "Oh..." she purrs, "So Porkchop has some fight in him."

Hopping to her feet, her mouth locked in a feral and bloodstained grin, she leaps over the overturned table, aiming a flying knee at his stomach.

As he'd thought, she was enjoying this. If it weren't for getting the air knocked out for a moment, he might not have felt the blow to his torso. It'd been a little while since he'd gotten to engage in a fights without weapons. There was a crazed grin on his face. "Perhaps today won't be boring after all", he thought.

"I told ya to stop calling me that!". If she thought we so big, he might as well let her experience it first-hand. The Unnamed Mercenary tackled the Miqo'te, in an attempt to pin her on the ground so he could get a decent hit in.

Around the Quicksand, people just stood at the rails, watching the brawl.

Natalie laughed as the blood pounded in her ears. Enough skulking around, enough threats and knives in the dark. This is what she was meant for, and all it took was a fist in...

She loses her train of thought as her view point abruptly shifts, and the breath is forced from her lungs as several hundred pounds of angry highlander knock her to the floor, only the padding of her armor saving her from shattered ribs. She shakes the stars from her vision, and joins her fists together aiming a hammer blow to the side of his head.

"Ge'off me porkchop" she growls.

Another wave of rage washed over. If she called him that one. More. TIME. He was sure to lose control. 
"I swear! What is /wrong/ with all of you?!" 

He sent another punch flying, a desperate attempt to knock some sense into the woman.

"Stop callin' me POCKCHOP! IT'S NOT MY NAME! IF I KNEW THE BLOODY THING, MAYBE YOU'D HAVE GOTTEN IT". He was losing control. If this kept up, he might actually cause an explosion. Aether was leaking out at a much larger rate than he'd seen before. Some of the nearby floor had started to crystallize.

She grins and catches the punch with her hands, his rage making his swings wild. She sits there for a moment, her arms shaking as she tries to hold his fist back.

"Alright... Por-" she chuckles through a split lip, "I mean, well what *should* I call you then? What kind of person doesn't know their own name?"

At this point he was just throwing punches with each word.

"It's. Called. Memory. Problems."

He kept Natalie pinned for good measure. Her armor was surprisingly better than expected.