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K'nahli

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About K'nahli

  • Rank
    Young Huntress
  • Birthday 12/23/1992

RP Related

  • Main Character
    K'nahli Yohko
  • Server
    Balmung

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  1. My best guess is that it would simply be like with horses in reality. You either have them with you at the time or you don't. Summoning them randomly at any time in-game is just that, a game mechanic for convenience. So they are, as the others have already mentioned, tied up, docked or simply nearby awaiting instruction.
  2. I can't really imagine why it should be a problem at all. You didn't describe anything that isn't a popular concept in mainstream media productions whose names go without even mentioning. It's meant to be taboo, disgusting and something that quite uniquely has an odd "appeal" in fiction for the very reason that it's so strange and inappropriate in reality. This really doesn't seem like anything that needs to be tip-toe'd around. The only person that deserves any actual forewarning is the brother whom I assume already knows - and only if they're someone you don't know well. In short, if anyone was that sensitive to a topic that is - quite frankly - rather tame then they should be making an active effort to make a point of wishing to avoid mature RP in the first place.
  3. Having been stolen away to the shade's respite, a more natural colour had just barely begun to return to the girl's face in the time that K'rahto had made preparations to create fire anew - her feverish hue instead seemingly leeching on to it's nearest victim as he fulfilled his familial obligations to the girl, while in turn violating those of the 'Tia'. Even as he collected her weary frame in his arms for a second time to support her, the girl had not stirred; deep in a coma-like state she had all but seemed, her breathing still heavy and brow carrying a faint though noticeable glisten. Her boots and gloves both were to be removed without incident, unaided; their empty shells handled almost too carefully when placed to dry in the company of a fire that dared not crackle and stir beneath the unusually heavy atmosphere. Had he played to an audience, none would doubt that the Tia reacted as one whom could not bide his time enough in his endeavours. Though the inevitable step had come, and so too had his fingers come to reluctantly intertwine with the final lace that shielded the girl from indecency. He was alone, completely alone in that moment of disarray and uncertainty as her clothing's tying was slowly undone to but a loose hold, with little else but the weight of the fabric itself to loyally steel and hold it's ground in defence of the girl's honour - the right flank that was her shoulder strap having already fallen in defeat to mere gravity. An uncommonly soft hold eventually greeted her either arm, collecting the edges of her top in a fingertip grip to prepare to complete the final step and cross a barrier that was not meant to be crossed.... when a soft murmur would shatter the steel-like focus that had forged within those molten gems of amber. "...nn...?" When heavy lids and lifting darkness would give way sight once more, a weak infusion of crimson would arise to meet with the depths of the forge, sealing the pair tightly into a situation that, to both, no doubt defied mere explanation. "...K'rahto...?" her voice would arrive with a fragility that betrayed a near-complete absence of strength. Her eyes fluttered helplessly as fatigue valiantly sought to steal her back to the darkness once more, and though failing, managing to at least rob the girl of her senses; her awareness of the moment and unusual closeness of the Tia in that very instant. "......why have we stopped?"
  4. Both my Xaelan Au Ra believe that all Raen are docile, contemptible beings unworthy of any respect whatsoever. They see them as entirely incapable of strength and would look down upon anyone - especially Xaela - that would be as shameless to so much as associate with them. Though more of a religious variety, K'nahli occasionally leans toward believing in omens, both bad and good, that betray Azeyma's current favour with her tribe and the lands.
  5. A chibi of Clover's character Ellice(who is locked away on another server due to 8 character server limit) and F'yue, her Spanish partner's character ^^
  6. Despite the new life breathed into his new-found sense of anxiety, the fervency of the Tia's protests went completely unheard by the unconscious huntress. Supporting the girl in his arms now, the extent of her diminishing health had become more than apparent. The pale complexion that had corrupted her youthful visage bells earlier had given way to a more distinct, reddish hue; a strong indication of a freshly-induced fever when in the company of her unnaturally heavy breathing and the thin film of sweat that had since drawn across her brow and down along the side of her puffy face. Her clothing, despite being exposed to the unrelenting sun for the best part of the morning by now, yet revealed subtle traces of moisture - a dampness that would have certainly been long-since dried had she spent the night in the company of a fire. Rhetorical though his comments may have been, the Tia would soon confirm that his remarks was sorely accurate, and regardless of his eagerness to scold in any attempt draw her out of this weakened state, it would immediately become clear that words alone would not reach her. Maintaining her distance as she slowly circled around K'rahto's crouched form; Suna chirped anxiously as her curious nature drew her attentions toward that of her fallen rider, her behaviour easily suggesting that even she knew that something were oddly amiss.
  7. *shamelessly continues to promote* Not my character, but a friends that commissioned her recently ^^
  8. Shout recruitment doesn't bother me so long as it's not spam-like. I really dislike tells though. I find that quite invasive and prompted me to add a "Not Looking for a FC" tag a couple of times and even an outright block when the same person messaged me 2-3 times in a row on the same character.
  9. The Raen's icy ultimatum was bold... and dangerous. Those fearless words of hers could have been regarded in any manner of ways. Arrogant. Ignorant. Naive. Pride could have interfered and seen the Xaelan shut her down once more, challenge her, threaten her.... kill her? He was certainly not above it - or at least, his former self wasn't. How curious indeed that he would instead revere with a manner of respect that which bore a strong resemblance to that of a threat against his very person. He, Nhogai Tumet. "Respect".... the word felt somehow unfitting, misplaced. Though whatever the truth of the matter, it was a feeling not estranged far from the very same... and he was no fool. Such like an unwelcome parasite, that the unfortunate reality that desperation may have in fact corrupted his prideful soul in any degree at all did not go unacknowledged. Perhaps it was through his refutal of a blissful ignorance that he now found himself somehow humbled - even before the delicate form of a harmless Raen; she, nothing more than a vulnerable wild flower, adamantly standing against the gale. Nhogai's gaze had not lifted from her since. Nor had they betrayed any hint of that same unnatural rage... that stirring sorrow... or even that uncanny sense of loss. Like a turbulent concoction bubbling and frothing away within the cauldron with their every, added input, their meeting had culminated into a strange sense of placidity - her words the final ingredient that had instilled just the right balance for all that had come before it to reach it's unlikely conclusion. Slowly, and with a fluid-like movement that would do little to disrupt the strange atmosphere that had fallen down upon their shoulders, Nhogai would procure a small blade from his person. Another tool he had recovered, though one unfitting for a man of his stature to be seen as a suitable weapon. Without breathing so much as a word, the dull steel was drawn forth, it's blade soon meeting with the exposed flesh of his left palm; taking but a second to settle it's modest shape neatly into place, the knife length was then swiftly stolen away once more - a tightly clenched fist serving to prevent a whip-like trail of crimson from trailing through the air. The Xaelan was silent in his pain, practically numbed to it's very meaning through experience alone, though it was nonetheless a gesture of penance - a tribute to she who had drawn offence from his actions and sharp tongue. He would not expect her to understand, though neither would he so grossly underestimate the woman ever again. [END OF SCENE]
  10. Surprisingly even to himself, the Xaelan's reaction was rather subdued. Alike to that of a wounded animal - even when it comes to the hand that feeds it - his every action up until now had been ferocious and on edge, mistrustful and full of doubts. Though with the correct approach, even the most feral animal could be tamed - and so too had his spirit been pacified for now.... all as a result of the words coming from that of a soft-spoken Raen. Sighing heavily, the man resolved to carefully release his grip upon the woman's clothing, easing her back down to her feet with an unlikely tenderness which he had not afforded her up until now. Tossing his gaze in the direction of the floor, his vision drew dark as he retreated to the solitude of thought. Prophesies aside, it was undeniable that she had left quite the impression on the male. Raen or no, that a fragile creature of such tender build and stature could so willingly stand against his brutish methods time and time again without so much as flinching from her resolve was a matter deserving of no small amount of respect. It was certainly an accomplishment that many a foe and ally alike of whom actually possessed the means and strength to defend themselves would not dare seek to challenge against one with as fearsome a reputation as he. ...He was being difficult, he knew, but what reason had he to believe he owed anyone anything anymore? It was a thought that was gradually becoming ever more difficult to justify when in the presence of someone with such outstanding mental fortitude. "....Nhogai" he breathed, reawakening from that same maelstrom of thought and uncertainty that had sought to drag him down into the abyss ever since awakening in this strange room. "It's Nhogai" he added while slowing bringing his gaze away from the spot on the floor it had locked upon until it was set firmly upon the girl before once more. The briars that had ensnared his every word had been cut, making way for a more receptive tone - albeit one that sounded dangerously similar to that of defeat. "If not an enemy, then how am I to see you?" Perhaps it was. Though at least this time, it wasn't accompanied by that same sense of soul-crushing shame that had imprisoned him, the very one he had so vainly toiled against from the moment he had accepted that he and he alone was responsible for slaying his comrades.
  11. Little did the girl think of his words of gratitude, genuine as they may have somewhat sounded coming from him. Little, too, did she make of his simple decision to save the token for later as opposed to indulging himself now. In truth, she was in no particular rush to return home - no particular rush to hurry anywhere for that matter, and so she had intended to allow him whatever time he needed before he was ready to depart. Perhaps he thought himself doing her a favour, or perhaps he simply wasn't hungry. Either way, it was an irrelevant matter she would not think to question. His next words were answered with an almost shy nod of her head, the girl's every animation reserved and lacking in energy - a demeanour that may be perceived as unusually soft for the huntress and more alike to that of her more tender-natured sister. Following the boy's lead, albeit with some slight difficulty, K'nahli mounted her chocobo with no further words shared between them before quietly guiding her loyal companion by the reigns back in the direction of the road to lead the long trek home to Drybone. [...] With the early hours of the morning placed well behind them, the pair had long since passed Blackbrush, the last bastion of outsider civilization standing between them and home - and the last which they would have to suffer for some time to come. The midday sun burned ferociously upon it's perch high above, resembling that of funeral pyre set adrift in the clear sea of cerulean above. Such heat was unforgiving in it's dominance with even the most native of the land's inhabitants brought to heel beneath it's intensity, though luckily something to be considered of lesser concern to those of Seeker breed. That was not to say that any respite offered by the lands would go unacknowledged, however, and shade and water both would not be too distant a hope as both miqo'te journeyed toward the large watering hole that lay between them and the more barren lands of Drybone. ".....nn.." For K'nahli, however, even the sweet comforts offered by such a thought were rather far from mind. By now, it was difficult to continue muffling the weak protests humming away from the depths of her throat, the slightly harsher breathing that had harassed her already-parched lips... and the wary fatigue that slowly ate away at her ability to sit firm and upright in her saddle. As a young child struggling to keep awake in the late hours of the night, her vision began to fade into intermittent darkness, her posture gradually easing to one side, until finally, the girl slipped completely from her saddle and landed as an unmoving heap upon the dusty, Thanalan floor.
  12. A very faint sense of surprise, made known to the Tia only for the soft graze left by her retreating fingers - flinching away from his voice as though it may pose them any danger. With his name now caught in her throat, the girl exchanged her waking call for that of a simple acknowledgement; her tone careful, yet unrevealing. Removing herself from the Tia's personal space then, her hand reached toward a satchel tied to K'rahto's chocobo, emerging soon-after with the remnants of the meal he had left behind in the cave along with her. In truth, it was little more than a few mouthfuls, certainly nothing he might see as a gift or perhaps even a pleasantry; though such an amount was better than no meal at all. The trip home would be a long one after all. "I brought you this" she declared with a subdued voice, awaiting his response - her mellow gaze following along the length of her arm to the wrapped piece of cooked-meat that reached as far as lancer's shoulder.
  13. ((Previous scene)) The morning sun weighed down hard upon the landscape where even gold gave way to rust, pencilling new cracks into the crisp soil and draining away all trace of the torrential downpour that had swallowed the lands the night previous. The distant shade of Ul'dah against the blue horizon slowly drew colour as the brightening sky imbued it with a renewed strength, prompting Her dominating shadow to begin it's gradual retreat across the sands, and in time, revealing three new ones of a far more humble size. That a creation of man could eclipse the lands so was an almost scary thought to the ignorant little mind of a tribal Seeker. There was of course some fascination to be found in the matter, though such idle romanticism was further from the huntress's mind than had ever been before, where even as she quietly led the pair of chocobo forth by the reigns, she allowed herself no opportunity for even a passing moment's reverie. It was of no surprise to the girl that it was only when the monumental city had been reduced to a mere fraction of it's great size that the familiar scent of a wayward companion had finally reached the pinnacle of it's strength. Though the storm has washed away most traces of his existence overnight, tracking him served to be of little challenge to a girl raised on the sands. Her course would divert from the main road, though the terrain would thankfully offer neither her nor the birds any significant difficulty as she slowly pushed on to a destination guided solely by her senses. When the lonely signs of a camp eventually drew into view, so too did the seemingly sleeping form of K'rahto. Had he shifted or not since the sun had risen, she could not tell - though the answer mattered little. Pausing for only a moment, the girl stepped forth uninvited with an unhurried pace, the soft crunching of both boot and claw against the flaky soil doing little to camouflage their approach. She would draw to a stop but a few feet behind him, abandoning her grip upon both sets of reigns as she closed the final few feet in a bid to reach for his resting arm.
  14. She lacked the strength to pursue. As though the very muscles within her had wasted away to nothing, leaving the girl to the point where she could just barely hold herself upon her own two feet. A desperate hand would be all that remained loyal to her. Reaching out, chasing the Tia's vanishing form into into the enshrouding darkness for as far as the girl could allow it to reach. Though this time, it would fall short of it's target. Pride and courage scraped vainly at the gates of a panicked visage, troubled beyond measure, but lacking the voice to call out in any weak attempt to offer one final plea to her one, single sense of security. He was gone. And she was alone. A sheet of silver lit up the turbulent sea of black above, bringing with it a warning that would forever come too late for the the girl, no matter how tightly she clamped upon those slender vessels that denied her solitude. She retreated from the soaking barrage until once again, a shattered gaze had found itself turned upon the soil below, stained darker by the dripping mess she had now become. The timid, orange flame never looked both so welcoming yet so terrifying as it weakly cast it's flickering, uncertain shadow along the shallow, cave walls; vainly working to cast away the scorched memories of years past when that same, thunderous roar had consumed the world above them and turned everything they knew and loved into smouldering ash. For the little that the red-eyed huntress was certain of in that moment, she knew that the fire could never be bright enough, her shelter deep enough... and K'rahto close enough. [END OF SCENE]
  15. The hollow clattering of wood against rock sent the girl's gaze shooting anxiously toward the back of the cave to where the feral animal stirred. She had provoked him. Too much. Her luck pushed too far, as she had predicted. Time and time again she had thought to reason with him, even if it meant wounding him in the process.... but each attempt had been as fruitless as the last. Moreso even, for it likely only earned more and more of the male's ire each time she would dare bare fang against him. The girl had gambled, the girl had lost. Once again she had lost.... and as though the Gods themselves had saw fit to punish her for her grossly intolerable ways, a thunderous clap of foreign origin rolled unseen through the skies above, crushing her fragile sense of hearing with an unbearable percussion. ((Open in new tab)) K'rahto had placed but one foot outside of the cave into they greying rain, his unprotected skin now falling prey to the strengthening torrent that unleashed it's drowning fury down upon their mutual and piteous display. He was strong, brisk in his attempted departure, though an unseen force had quickly claimed him, a smaller figure now joining him in that freezing hell while an outreached hand gripped tightly upon his wrist as though it were a lifeline and seeing him to an immediate halt. It was not the first time she had denied him this way, though this time it was not an angry and stubborn K'nahli fighting against the Tia's will, but instead a trembling and miserable excuse for a huntress, too weak to so much as meet eyes with his ferocious gaze as those brittle words leaked uncontrollably from her lips. "Don't.... don't go...." A second clap of thunder - distant though unmistakable - followed only moments after, rewarding the Tia with a clarification to cement his certainties as slender fingers wrapped tighter still around his wrist in silent plea. The downpour had swallowed up her pride in an instant, leaving naught for the boy to behold but a sad excuse for a Hipparion tribesmember, a soaken and lost little runt that had been abandoned by it's family in the storm.
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