RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes

Naunet · **11-10-2013, 02:57 PM**

Something I have missed in every roleplay community I've been involved in since my time with the Ravenholdt server in WoW is a sense of connectedness between players across guild and RP circle boundaries. The community's "bulletin board" was a tool I felt did wonderfully to encourage this feeling, and as I wholly intend to make this community my home for the foreseeable future, I've decided to establish a bulletin board of Balmung's very own.

An MMO server encompasses a dizzying spread of story potential, from grandiose epics to private, touching moments to humble evenings at a local tavern. The diversity in roleplay is reflected in an equal diversity of thought, attitude, style, and dedication amongst the community's members. For this reason, it can often feel nigh on impossible to wholly grasp the scope of your server's roleplaying world. Not everyone has the inclination or confidence to participate in threads on the forums, or to post lengthy summations of their intricate plot-lines. Likewise, not everyone has the time to sift through dozens upon dozens of threads to keep abreast of the latest happenings and community lore.

In comes the bulletin board! Treat this as a character blog of sorts, a place where we can communicate, in easily digestible posts, the goings on of our characters' lives. Is your character reeling from a sudden, nasty break up? How exactly did it feel to have their arm sliced clean off in their latest, unfortunate brawl? What terrors lurk in their nightmares, or hopes in their dreams? Or maybe your lucky guy or gal just happened to have a wonderful morning and you want to share it with the world!Â

All of this and more can be fair game. The hope is that it will encourage others to take an interest in the lives of those they play alongside but, perhaps, had not yet had the opportunity to interact with. It might also serve as a useful little tool for rumor-mongering, depending on the content of the post, but shush now, you didn't hear that from me. Wink

Some guidelines to keep in mind when posting in this thread:

1. All posts are to be in-character.
2. No back-and-forth threading here, only one-off posts of reasonable (no more than a few paragraphs) length. However, if you happen to read a post that caught your eye, don't hesitate to follow up on it through other means (PMs, in-game, or just more RP in another thread/location!)
3. Try to post no more than once a day, per character.

With that in mind, happy roleplaying!

Twinflame · **11-10-2013, 03:32 PM**

Just after midnight on almost every evening, the hoods brought their victims to this alley between Pearl Lane and the lower class markets. On none of these occasions, so far as anyone could tell, did the Brass Blades interfere. Despite the complaints of shouts and scuffles in the nights and all the blood mopped off of these stones, no investigations were made. And nobody was surprised.

Tonight's victim was an older Hyur woman. Her old joints hit the stone like a bundle of sticks, and her blood-soaked lips had already been diminished to incoherent blubbering before they'd even brought her here.

"I know you got more'n this," a Hyur man shook a bag at her face, and it clattered with the sound of loose gil. Not enough to buy bread with. Not enough to hurt someone over. "Your boy borrowed money to get ya medicine, didn't he? But you ain't sick, is ya?"

The woman just cough and spat and tried to squirm away. Had shadows lay over her craggy features and spared the hoods the need to see what they were inflicting on her.

The man shouted, "Where's the money!?"

And the men behind him, a Roegadyn and Lalafel, nodded. Their chuckles were thick like cold oil. They sound and tasted foul, and in disgust, invisible hands reached out and stopped them cold. That hushed snickering stopped so suddenly that the two men might've vanished, but they simply stood suddenly frozen and breathless.

Still squirming on the ground, the woman hadn't noticed, but the man who'd been shaking the money in her face turned to them and squinted into the shadows they'd been hiding in. "Eh, what's goin on there?" He waited a few seconds for his companions to answer, and then the blood touched his toes. The growing puddles of blood beneath his companions' feet reached out through the cracks on the ground toward him. When he noticed it, he flinched and pulled a knife from his belt, ducking into a defensive stance and turning about aimlessly. "By the hells?"

A rough voice, shaking and echoing like a whisper from the bottom of a well, inquired from the shadows, "You daylight as one of the Brass Blades, don't you?"

The man with the knife shook as the bodies of his companions fell at his feet as though cut free from the strings that had been holding them, "Who's asking!? Thal take you I'll-"

His head split sideways at the eyes, and the splatter of blood was mercifully silent compared to the high-pitched gurgling sounds he made before he collapsed. The Hyur woman was silent for a moment, but screamed when she saw the dark form standing in the center of the corpses. Thin, tall, pitch black and silent, it stood unmoving as though it had always stood there and had simply gone unnoticed.

The form bent down and picked up the bag of clattering gil. It muttered to the woman, "A pitiful bounty for a night of stalking, but I guess I don't require much, do I?" and she just continued to scream. Nimble fingers drew three coins from the bag. "Yes," it said in its deep voice, "I think Ul'dah will treat me just fine. These shadows feel good to me."

Throwing what was left in the bag at the screaming woman, the Duskwight turned to exist the alleyway. Stepping out of the shadows did nothing to smooth out the image, his body wiry and skin tight like a half-starved scarecrow, his thick hair and beard ratty and filthy. The Hyur woman continued to scream until the Duskwight was out of sight, and then took her money and crawled home.

When normal people moved to a new city, they found homes and decorated them with things. When Elder Megiddo Desfosse moved to Ul'dah, he found shadows and decorated them with blood. He wondered who his new neighbors would be.

Clover · **11-10-2013, 06:49 PM**

The days in Gridania, after five years of being away, have been strange. This is the place she was born in, but somehow, it no longer feels like home. Itâ€™s lacking something to feel like home.

Furthermore, Clover still remembers how working on her parentsâ€™ shop was; she was quite serious and dedicated to her tasks, the same sheâ€™d be later on at her grandpaâ€™s shop of wonders. Her new job at the botany guild, however, has been quite different. She finds herself often distracted, daydreaming about different worlds that are far, far away from her current chores.

Itâ€™s started worrying her. Especially the part where she forgets to worry and does it again.

Naunet · **11-11-2013, 04:36 PM**

Antimony didn't understand why Ul'dah's walls were so high.

She had gone from open swaths of desert to an endless horizon of ocean, but one thing had remained constant - nothing stood between her and the edge of the world. Or, at least, the figurative edge, as she was fairly certain their world was not flat.

But not so for Ul'dah, whose walls vaulted dizzyingly above head, blocking much of the sky and the sun and the horizon, leaving only the oppressive heat and sweat and stink of the desert and a people mired in poverty. Perhaps this was why it was so difficult to avoid certain people in the city. Perhaps she had the walls to blame for the two nights she had so far spent in the Quicksand, two nights that had seen little sleep but much unwanted thought on faces and places she would rather forget.

At least she had Ulanan, and her work - always her work - to distract her.

Perhaps it was hypocritical of her to value the walls of her room and mind while damning the stifling, social claustrophobia imposed by those of the city itself, but for now that was not a distinction Antimony cared to justify.

Qhora Bajihri · **11-12-2013, 04:09 AM**

"She's just a kid!" Darien snarled as he lifted the young lalafell by his collar and slammed him against the wall just outside the coliseum. "Do you have any idea who her father is?"

The lalafell sobbed. "YesyesyesI'msorry."

Darien scowled, tightening his grip. "She needed to see three healers. Three!"

"I'm so sorry! I never meant to hurt her," the young man wailed, flailing small, desperate hands at Darien's forearm.

Darien stared, eyes narrowed, fury in his face. Then his expression slowly softened and he lowered his victim to the ground. "You're just a kid, too."

The lalafell slid to sitting and coughed, wiping his face on his sleeve. "Y-you're not going to kill me?"

"No," Darien said, frowning down at him.

"B-but they only send you-"

"Get out of here. And lay off the booze, kid. I don't want to ever see you again."

The lalafell scrambled to his feet and raced away as fast he could, not once looking back.

Vito · **11-12-2013, 06:53 AM**

The hallway was filled with the sounds of tearing paper, shreds slowly spilling over motionless feet.

"This.." a voice choked out.
"C-can't be happening.."

Breathing hitched, before throwing off into a heavy pattern; nearly hyperventilating. Trembling fingers made their way through ash-shaded hair while the Miqo'te struggled to regain his composure.

"Absurd."

Arms fell limply to his sides.

"They need me.. they.." he trailed off, his jaw clenched with frustration and helplessness--unsure which emotion began or ended. Or whether they were the same all along.

A heavy, sickening pause. Silence saturated the room; looming and oppressing over the male's shoulders.

Suddenly, Vito raised a heel and kicked the trash from his boots.
A nervous, uncharacteristic laugh boomed through his body.

"They would not dare."

K'haali · **11-13-2013, 02:48 PM**

Huddled over a small campfire, hidden in a rocky alcove high over drybone, The hipparion tribe explorer felt sick to the stomach. It wasn't because the possibility that the tribe might be moving soon, nor was it being alone in a strange place, nor was any of the local fauna poisonous.

It was the first time in many years she'd managed to over-eat, an alien experience for a seeker of the sagolii. At least, that's what she told herself, the truth was change would soon come to the tribe; for the better she knew deep down, but change nonetheless, and giving up what little familiarity remained of her father's tribe was gnawing at her.

"Still, giving up sandwurm, orobon and starvation for aldgoat, millioncorn and indigestion doesn't seem like a sacrifice at all..."

She concluded quietly, before rolling over and trying to sleep it off.

"...not even a little"

Clover · **11-24-2013, 02:33 PM**

With the image of Xydaneâ€™s back in mind, Clover could barely sleep that night.

Dear grandpa.

In this world, some of the things that break canâ€™t be fixed again. Or perhaps they just need the right circumstances to be fixed. I've noticed that some people canâ€™t be reached, canâ€™t be saved. Not by me.

Dear grandpa, I wonder how many failures youâ€™ve had to endure, and how you dealt with each of them. Itâ€™s hard to imagine you in such situations, but life is long, and no mornings come without their nights.

I hope something good will happen tomorrow.
Itâ€™s the way most of us live, I guess.

Kieron Lohengrin · **11-25-2013, 03:49 AM**

Calernyn Stormbreaker frowned as he studied his older sibling. The crimson-haired, thrice-scarred traveler sipped his tea, eyes closed in a picture of inner peace, seemingly unaware of his younger brother's scrutiny. Around them, Cal's children ran barefoot through the garden, their laughter bell-like in the cool afternoon air of the seaside.

"You worry me, big brother." Cal adjusted his glasses, his frown simply deepening as Schezar opened his own eyes again. Crystalline violet versus emerald green eyes, elder and younger brother. Their gazes stayed locked for a few long moments, before the monk simply reached to pour himself another cup of tea. "Whatever for? You shouldn't fret overmuch. Enjoy life here with Marina, and your little ones."

Cal hissed a noise of irritation through clenched teeth. "I shall sleep more easily at night, once I know you won't end up on a foeman's pike somewhere. Why must you continue to take these risks?" Schez simply sipped his tea again, while Cal continued, "Let others fight for the crystal. Let others face the land's dangers, 'for coin and country'! Surely there are adventurers enough to go around?"

Schezar set his teacup down with the same serene, infuriating smile that his family knew too well. "I must be going. Thank you for the tea." Cal sighed, glancing over to the potted plant at the side of the table. "...fine. Anyroad, don't forget your..." The younger man's nose wrinkled. "...you still haven't explained what the sunflower's for."

The battle-hardened, dangerous-looking highlander picked up the potted sunflower with another mild smile. "To cheer a complete stranger up."

"Huh?"

"In Gridania. Stay safe, baby brother."

The sigh was long-suffering, but the hug was heartfelt. "You're so strange, big brother."

Clover · **11-25-2013, 01:31 PM**

((OOC: As a reply to an awesome PM I received today. For some reason, I can't send any PM back, so this will do.))

In the morning, Clover is confused when she's told that someone left a gift for her. She takes no time to start reading the mysterious letter, hoping to find a clue as to who it could be from. The words she finds written there, however, are far from shedding light into the matter.

Her eyes open wider, her mind races. The Echo? Grandpa told her about it on some occasions, but itâ€™s the first time sheâ€™s gotten the chance to actually see its effects. Whatâ€™s clear is that someone has managed to take a look inside her mind, an unknown person who could be just anyone. Scary as the thought might be, she canâ€™t help the rush of interest and curiosity to learn more.

The first thing she does is ask around the guild if anyone has seen the person who left the gift there, but no one seems to know anything about the matter.

â€œI must let that person know that Iâ€™m looking for them,â€ she decides next, and starts trying to send mental messages to whoever can hear them.

(â€œWho are you?â€) Her thoughts keep asking as the day goes on, no matter where she is. (â€œWhy are you hiding?â€)

Kieron Lohengrin · **11-25-2013, 02:42 PM**

No voice, no words answer Clover's call right away.

However, a brief mental image, as if half-remembered, flows gently across her mind - as well as the minds of other crystal bearers nearby:

The outline of an unfamiliar figure, back turned and viewed from behind. Clad in ebon, quietly and peacefully strolling through the woods. A faint flash of long, crimson hair.

A few notes of an old, oddly wistful tune, hummed beneath the leaves.

And an ornate, guarded sanctum in the Shroud, dedicated to the Twelve, visited by fireflies beneath the starlight.

[Image: qz4I3T7.jpg]

The echo fades.

Twinflame · **12-24-2013, 08:02 PM**

"Oh, now I know this is a mistake."

"Hm?"

"This name," the Elezen woman pointed at a list that sat on the desk before her, between piles of small glass-and-metal leveplates and boxes of varying sizes. The large window behind her was fogged over with frost, and her cheeks were red from the chill, giving her a festive look as she laughed. "U'tania! Isn't that the Miqo'te stable-girl from a few years ago?"

"Yes," the dark haired Elezen man answered, looking up from a desk that mirrored the woman's. He gestured with his quill, "And no. He changed his name to Mitari and he's a knight now."

She blinked at him, and shook her head. "What."

"Don't bother. It's not a mistake. Just do what the list says."

"No, listen," she held up the list. "It says U'tania is supposed to be sent one of the sexy leveplates and a pair of suggestively tight holiday pantelletes. Every other name on this list is a noble, a knight, or a lady of court, and all good Ishgardian folk."

"Oh, is that the 'sexy' list? I have the 'platonic' and 'family' leveplates over here. Very different pictures on them." He smirked and leaned forward, "Am I on that list?"

"No. Are you on those lists over there?"

He looked suddenly depressed. "No," but only took a moment to sigh, and then shrugged, "If the Lady Midichante wants to send a Miqo'te one of the sexy leveplates, it's not really our place to question. You now how she likes to skirt the edge of reason and taboo."

"Might as well be sending love letters to a chocobo," the lady observed, but nodded. "There's a few dozen names on this list. I just hope she didn't put the name on here on accident, or it'll be my neck when she blames me for the Miqo'te getting too excited." She took one of the 'sexy' leveplates and placed it in the box with red silk pantalettes. "At least pantalettes go on the outside of his bum. Some of the things in these boxes would get the Lady in trouble were they to come up in an inquisition."

"Are you sure I'm not on that list over there?"

"Yes, I am. I'm sorry. If there's an extra leveplate you might be able to take it, but I wouldn't count on it."

"What list are you on?"

She blushed. "That is none of your business!" And she slammed her hands on the box to seal it with sudden roughness. "Sexy leveplate and pantalettes from the Lady Midichante to some miqo'te named U'tania! Alright, done! Now can we just forget I said anything and get back to work please?"

A week later the poor woman would find out that it was a mistake and that she should have caught it, but she would successfully defer blame to man whose counsel she followed. The gentleman would never see any of the sexy leveplates. Mitari, however, would by then have already received a leveplate of his very own from a moogle parcel-carrier.

[Image: LyrCrops.png]

Illira · **12-28-2013, 02:55 AM**

With a heavy sigh, Illira let herself sink down onto the feather mattress in her newly acquired room at the Quicksand. She tiredly pulled the leather satchelâ€™s strap over her head, letting it sink down to the ground. Slowly loosening the whiteknuckled grip she had just unconsciously subjected it to.

If the Elezen had any say in the matter, she would be leave Ulâ€™dah on the speediest chocobo available, now that Antimony had been found and accounted for. But no, the woman couldnâ€™t be trusted to carry out such a simple task as sending in progress reports, or even it seemed, checking her own mail. The look on her face when she had answered Illiraâ€™s knock on her inn room door had made that quite clear. Her presence and reason for visiting where entirely a surprise. Antimony didnâ€™t even have the presence of mind or capacity to lie, cover up her inaction. Which honestly, was one of the few reasons that Illira had not insisted yet for her dismissal. Qualities such as that were hard to find in the world. Her work was good when she delivered it, but it was obvious at this point in the probationary employment that she had the concentration of the fruit flies that so often loved to congregate in the Ulâ€™dahn markets.

Hopefully the woman would realize the severity of the situation and correct herself, though it seemed all too unlikely in the long term. Maybe Antimony was going senile. It would explain a lot, but it didnâ€™t matter. One must own up to oneâ€™s responsibilities and actions, no matter the cost. Which was why she was here now, playing babysitter amidst this plague-ridden city.

Kicking the bag slightly to the side, Illira brought her still booted feet up on the bed, stretching herself out on her side over the coverlet. Maybe she would go to see Amaury while she was here. The one good thing left in the city, not that it had been left to stand. She had not sent him any letters in the past few years, not since before she had spent a spell down at that post in the Southern Shroud at least. Maybe he would be happy to see her, no one else ever was.

Naunet · **12-29-2013, 12:47 PM**

"I'm sorry, miss, but Coerthas is beyond the jurisdiction of the Grand Companies. It's simply not in our or our chocobos' best interests to endorse travel so far north... ah, are you alright? Miss? You don't seem well..."

Coward. Selfish.

... Miss?"

She didn't want to go.

"... If you're set on it, the best I can do is offer rent of one to Drybone."

You're far too gentle.

"They're more kind to the dead than the living there, so there's no guarantee you'll find what you need to get into the Shroud, but..."

She needed to go.

"... You're five gil short, miss."

I can make it so they'll never. Follow you. Again.

"Er, that's not... okay. This girl'll take you to Black Brush. Give the ticket to the porter there, and they'll swap you out with a fresh one for the journey to Drybone. Uh, good... luck, miss."

Kin-killer.

Star Lin · **12-29-2013, 04:28 PM**

Kestlona Guhtgeiswyn looked over the message board in the Adventurers' guild, hoping to find a second job now that her Pugilist instructor ok her taking on a second guild.Â The female Seawolf snorted at the open in the Goldsmith guild.Â 'Yeah, I can just see myself trying to be delicate with all of those gem and metals,' she thought to herself.Â Her bothers would probably laugh their asses off if she took that.Â 'Weaver...nope...escort...oh, that kind of escort.'Â She sighed, 'Might check it out late but I need a steady source of gil right now.'

"Hm," she mutter, "Gladiator looking for more students."Â She tap her finger against her chin.Â "Should check that.Â Can't hurt to know other ways of making the bones of my enemies into powder."

An eyebrow went up at one posting. "Ah, the miners' guild is looking for workers."Â The post listed the amount of gil that would be pay.Â "Yes, this would be just the thing.Â What they didn't sell themselves, I could probably sell myself."Â She quickly made her way out of the Ul'dah Adventurers' guild, heading deeper into the city to try and find the Miners' guild.

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Bulletin Board

RPC has moved! These pages have been kept for historical purposes