Fates Skein

I know Mateus is the new hotness but how are things over on the Coeurl server? Anyone on there that can give some info?

Haukke Manor. NM. Low level roulette. I'm running as a WHM, barely high enough level for it. With two NIN in AF gear and a tank that judging by health was level 40-45 or so paladin. We start off, things go fairly well...until the ninjas suddenly go hidden and -vanish-, taking off down that main hallway. I ask tank, "What are they doing?" Tank, "Idk". We wait a few moments, get a notification that the first boss room is closing in 15 sec. First boss room closes. I lol at first, thinking it was an accident. NOPE The ninjas proceed to race through all of HM in hidden, pull the ENTIRE DUNGEON to the last room, then tell tank and I to 'hurry the f* up' and kill the last boss. They die, dungeon munches tank and my faces. I ask 'wtf are you doing?' And get this response, word for word Nin A: tears Nin B: speed run bruh I tell them we're not geared for a speed run, just go at the pace the tank was setting, got called a variety of names, attempted to vote abandon, they declined, told me to suck it. I attempted to vote kick one of the nins, was told to suck it. I finally told them to vote kick me, because i wasn't taking a penalty for their dickery. Nins said no. I got up and made dinner. Came back and was no longer in the dungeon. Queued back up and had a fantastic, easy run with nice people. Happy ending.

Although greatly overwhelmed by the number of people, I enjoyed the opportunity to perform and to RP (well, mostly observe!) around/with people I haven't gotten to meet before. Thank you.

I got the $40 deal. <3 15+ years of RPing and never got to play the bride, I'm making the most of it!

Rhisi is a bard, I do write my own songs and stories for her as well as dance. I don't have a whole lot of time to devote but I would love to be involved in something like this, even if it is on the rare occasion.

Hello everyone! Just wanted to pop in and say that the OSR is an amazing place, one that I am extremely proud to be a part of. If you're interested in us and wondering who to contact and kind of how our structure works, please have a glance HERE!! It'll tell you who's-who in our leadership and give you an idea who to contact if you are curious about us. See you in game! ~Rhisi

As an officer for the Sword and Rose Order I would like to note that this is not a Free Company plotline and the Free Company Hall will not be being used for it. This is a personal plot being written by and for Burning Passion's character. Thank you, C'rhisi

I would tentatively put forward Rhisi as a priestess for Azeyma as well as a bard if one is desired.

I have a Tumblr for C'rhisi and Anais! Primarily inspiration, things that catch my fancy for the characters, and suchlike. Can be mildly NSFW (more suggestive than anything) and it will be featuring songs, stories, etc. Link is in my signature! Oh! And to note: I would -love- to do character building asks and things like that. I really enjoy those kind of things!

I love it when I'm so involved in the RP that it's 2-3 hours past my bedtime but I don't care because "OMG this story is awesome". I love it when I'm out running around, doing a fate, and get bowed to or waved at. Just little acknowledgements. I love running a dungeon and everyone, ilvl 110 or brand new baby 50, works together as a team. I love logging in and getting a flood of "Hi!"s I love it when I've put quiet work into something, not told anyone I was the one that worked on it, and then get to sit back and hear how much everyone loved it, the rehashing, the "OMG can you believe happened?!"

Are they? Aren't they?

The Hunter and The Moon -Performed as a spoken-word story, this tale is about Menphina and a nameless hunter. It is often told around Valentione's day or on full-moon nights. Once, when the world was young, There was a hunter. He stood tall and brave His arm was strong His aim was true And his heart was just. As he stalked his prey In the darkness of the forest In the stillness of the night He came upon the Moon. Her eyes were light Her skin was dark And in her smile was joy And as she bathed the curve of her body Was grace and beauty and love. The hunter was transfixed His heart stolen away. The goddess' eyes found him In the stillness of the night. And they saw him And they knew him And she was his. "Three tasks must you complete, Before I will forgive This grievous crime Of spying as I bathe." She spoke as one enraged but the light in her eyes Was the light of the stars And the moon at full And the hunter knew her love. The task first given was to find the Boar King To take from him a tusk. The hunter was a wise man With no dearth of courage So he went a-hunting With his spear and his bow And his heart brave and true. They fought And Struggled And night turned to day And day turned to night And man clashed with beast. Until at last they met With a crash so mighty It felled the trees And shook the very stones. In the hunter's hand Was a tusk, broken at the base All ivory and gold. Task the second was to find A blind seer With eyes the color of rust. For many malms and many nights The hunter sought this man Here And there Over valley Through dell. Until he found him In a shack by the sea Surrounded by beauty The hunter had never seen. All of carven ivory was the seer's home Secrets known And unknown Seen And unseen Were held in the blind man's eyes. The hunter stood And with his honest heart he offered all And the seer smiled For he saw all that the man Could not see. The great tusk was carved With a thought And a prayer And magic unknown. And the hunter moved on. The third task was to climb The Mountain That no other man had climbed. It reached so high The clouds looked up At the summit And wondered At the secrets there. It was the greatest task The hardest to fulfill And when the hunter's heart grew heavy He felt the touch of moonlight And saw again The light in her eyes The curve of her cheek The dark of her skin. For love he climbed For the sight of her And she watched Standing Aloof and shining With her mantle of stars. At last he knelt before her. And he said: "My lady My love Every task have I completed Every part of me Do I offer now. With this carving With my hands With my heart." And she smiled And it was as the moon Cleared the clouds And shone with glory Upon the man. "My lord My love With your hands and your heart You have caught me. And so I will join you And love you From now until the stars fall." The hunter stood- And she was gone And the carving in his hands Was gone Leaving him with nothing. He turned, searching, And her arms wrapped around him And in her hair was darkness And in her eyes was light And the curve of her smile Was the curve of the moon And her skin was ivory Touched with magic And the breath of life. The hunter and his bride Lived lives long and full And their joy was as the moon Riding high in the night. And the goddess blessed them And they lived And loved And laughed For the rest of their days.

Bag of Secrets One day when I was walking Amongst the forests green I came upon a wise man All the world he'd seen So I asked him for a secret That would set the stars alight And he looked me in the eye And said, "I will teach you true delight." From the bag at his feet He drew a long-stemmed pipe Lit it with a fingertip And winked one blue, blue eye. "My dear," He said to me, with tongue as good as golden "There is no secret I don't know But my head's too small to hold'em!" "So in my bag my secrets lie If you're brave enough to look, And if you want to catch a good one You must make yourself a hook!" With naught but my two hands And a thread and a smile I made myself a hook of song To catch that secret in style. The old man, he laughed at me My cleverness impressed him And the bag at his feet was opened wide And I couldn't help but dive right in! Secrets big and secrets small They swam all around me And out came my hook And away they went, slippery as can be. One little secret Was all I caught But it was the best one When secrets you seek A song and a smile Will bring you the the most fun!

The Order's Song ((Set to igtNdgAzDxc )) ((Singing begins at 0:29)) There was a time When I was all I had When the cold winds blew I drifted There was a day when I Was all alone and scared Then I saw the light That drew me I found a home Within this place- the hearts of my friends it is there I am not alone. ((1:04)) Hitoride wanai I am not alone Hitoride wanai I'm wanted. Hitoride wanai I am not alone Hitoride wanai I'm wanted. It is here that I Can see my future spread Before me like A ribbon One that will carry me Through darkness and despair And deliver me To glory ((1:51)) I can see you There all a-lone ((2:10)) Join with me And you will never be Alone and scared Abandoned or unwanted Here we will Shelter you from storms Great and small And you'll always be Welcome in the light You will always be Welcome ((2:41)) Hitoride wanai I am not alone Hitoride wanai I'm wanted. Hitoride wanai I am not alone Hitoride wanai I'm wanted. There was a time When I didn't know That my home was near. It is this that I offer Now is the time when you Can know the warmth of home When you'll look around And feel loved Now is the time when I Will offer you my hand And we will stand Together ((Piano break)) ((4:18)) Hitoride wanai I am not alone Hitoride wanai I'm wanted. Hitoride wanai I am not alone Hitoride wanai I'm wanted.

Hmmm... When I moved in with the husband (then boyfriend) out of the dorms and into our first real apartment, the first thing we bought was this egg-crate stuff because we couldn't afford a bed (or an air mattress). Most of the other stuff was hand-me-downs from his family or the stuff I'd managed to fit in a box and a suitcase when I uh...rather precipitously left home at 18 (mostly books, tbh >.>).

Some old memories... I, too, was of the CoH days. It was the first MMO I RP'd in (I was strictly a MU* girl before that). The community on our server wasn't really an 'RP' community (I played on Triumph) but it had heart.

Please go HERE for examples of my art!! I am in a bit of a financial crunch (see the link for details) and so I am opening up commissions! I charge a flat rate of $15 and LOVE drawing things like jewellery, trinkets, weapons, and gadgetry. I also draw busts and will include an avatar-size along with a large, printable size copy of the drawing should you like one! This is not limited to FFXIV characters, by the way! If you have a tabletop game and your character has a special item, let me give you a representation of it! Are you a LARPer that looks at your item card and wishes it had a little more flash? I can help! Please send me a PM if you have any interest.

...I'd be a bard. *laughs* Roaming around, with my bow and somehow magically-full quiver of arrows and sing and entertain people. I don't know that I'd want to leave. *laughs*

She lay by his side as he slept, for the moment peacefully though she had no doubt that eventually his mind would turn as it always did to painful things and he would be tossing and murmuring. When he did she would be there, offering the small comfort of her arms and gentle, wordless lullabyes that she hoped would filter into his nightmares and offer him some small succor. For now, as he rested and she looked at his silhouette in the dark, her mind went back to the thoughts and memories that had sprung to life when she had smelled the rose hips and chamomile. ----- There had been a merchant in the bar, speaking of the endless blue of the Rhotano Sea and the amazing sight of the great ships in the harbor at Aleport. His words had filled her mind with the sights and smells of a sea she had never seen and later that day she had quit her job and gathered her things, setting out for Vylbrand and adventure she had never seen. It was there, sitting on a pile of crates and carefully balancing her fear of the water with the wonder that the sights and sounds of Aleport filled her with, that she had seen the man with the ancient helm. She had consented to play for him on the lute strapped to her pack... ----- Such a simple, simple thing. She remembered the song- her notes on it sat on the desk a few feet away from the bed. He had begun calling her Songstress- she had thought it sweet, if a little reductive. She was so much more than just a singer, though that strange man with his strange ways could not have known that then. He knew little of miqo'te and nothing of the tribes, but he meant no insult so she had smiled and let it be, consenting to travel with he and his strange group of companions on little more than a whim- she would be going home soon, after all, and one last grand adventure would give her enough to tell a great Song when she returned. Rhisi sat up in the bed and curled her tail around herself. There was the soft sound of rain on the windowpane above her bed and she turned to watch the droplets fall and make their eldritch patterns on the glass. When had it gotten complicated? It hadn't been long, she knew that much. There had been something about him that resonated in her poet's heart, something that she did not have the knowledge, the worldliness, to understand or even name. They understood one another, knew what it was to stand in a land and be different and strange and yet somehow full of the self-assurance that comes from knowing where one's roots lay. But he was Hyur and taboo. She would be going home soon. He was not miqo'te, he was not Coeurl. He was far older than she. Then, he was taken. By one whom she called 'sister'. The group of strange and varied companions had grown on her, had become closer to her than blood. She had begun to think of them as family. They fought together. Sang together. They shared their strengths and fears and struggled to be a light in a weary world. They grew and shrank like a living thing- breathing in, breathing out, smaller one day and larger the next. And through it all, a man in red standing as a living beacon of honor, drawing them in. ------------ Sitting beside a campfire in Thanalan, after running off a pair of strangely dressed men. She had begun to sing and the voices had lifted with her. He had smiled and the fire had burned so much brighter... ----------- Then, things had happened so fast she could scarcely put them in their proper order. Injuries. Poison. The truth of the color red, the vow, the realization that she was never going home. The growing sense that she was running downhill with no ability to stop, rushing into something she did not understand and was not prepared for. Testing the waters of affection with one who would be safe, though all the while her eyes could find him unerringly, slivers of iron caught with a magnet. A great bell ringing in her head with the tone "Forbidden". The too-observant eyes of her sister upon her, the insistence that she was a child who could not know her own heart. Acceptance and rebellion in the same breath. Rhisi ran her hands through her hair and closed her eyes. It still hurt. She was who she was, had been taught that selfishness was the way to ruin not only for herself but for the tribe as a whole. And though these were not Coeurl and they could not know it and would never understand it, they had become her tribe. And she had smiled in the light and sung and danced and put aside foolish, impossible things with a pain in her heart that seemed so large sometimes it would swallow Azeyma herself. The bad days began soon after. Living with a heart divided guarantees sickness and she had bled to death while writing the song that would rejoice in the joy that had been revealed to her. For his sake, for the sake of her 'sister', she had smiled, she had filled the air with song. She had hidden every emotion but joy because she could not stand for them to see her in pain- nor could she ever, ever admit why. She'd begun travelling then, going as far as she could into the desert with the mark of the outcaste tattooed for all time on her cheek, a mark of failure, a sign that she had abandoned everything she had been born to be. And for what? For who? Someone who did not want her. Someone taboo. Someone who saw her as a child. And someone who would break her heart. She had returned for a single night, meaning only to share that she was well, that she had come to learn much on her journey. When she had arrived at the great ediface of stone that she had come to love, it's solidity seeming unshakable, she had heard the news that had sent her back out into the world, away from all of it- away from temptation and responsibility and honor and everything that Hall stood for. She had ridden aetherial currents as far as they could take her then used her own two feet and her wits to carry her further still. Until on the Far Eastern shores she had had to face everything she'd been running from. ------ She'd been sitting on the beach, watching the water, sharp eyes catching the sight of sails from fishing vessels drifting peacefully with the tide. A small group of children were playing in the sand under the watchful eyes of their mothers. Her robes had hidden her tail, her hair had been done up to hide her ears, and they had not noticed her. The song they sang as they skipped and jumped and made castles in the sand had not registered at first. Then it was all she could hear, high children's voices singing about the Red Samurai. The surf vanished, the sunlight filled her eyes, and she heard over those innocent voices her own voice, nearly as innocent as theirs, swearing an oath that she had fled across the world to run away from. She had come to herself in a cave created by the cliffs meeting the sea, far and further from where she had sat in the sun. The tide was high and she was trapped, the light summer kimono soaked with sea spray and tears. She had slept there and dreamed and her dreams had been unkind in their honesty but at the same time had filled her with such painful joy that when she woke she wept to have them end. ------- He shifted and made a noise and she looked to him, feeling again that mingling of pain and joy. It would always be this way between them. They had shared too much for it to be easy- each had their scars, the tender places of their hearts where the healing had been incomplete and they would ache forever when it rained. She was yet naive enough to pray in the stillness of the night that their choice was the right one- that for once, for them, the decision to seize a little happiness would be best for the many and the few. Then he was tossing, turning, his expression catching the moonlight like a mask of tragedy, and her musings and memories were all forgotten, cast aside like children's toys as she obeyed the simple, primal, overwhelming urge to ease his pain- and in so doing, perhaps find her own little slice of peace.

You have my attention.

The tea house was bustling, busy with the voices of men laughing and chatting and women offering drinks and gaily chattering, brightening the atmosphere. In the center of the square space, on a natural stage created by four columns of wood, Rhisi sat with a zither on her lap. The large harp-like instrument sang under her skilled fingertips though few of the patrons of this crossroads-inn cared to pay attention to the music. She sang as well, in accented Doman, a song about honor. A group of heavily armed men watched her playing and she kept her eyes demurely cast down, fingers running over the strings of the instrument with minds of their own, voice rising with heartbreaking purity over the sounds of the busy tea house. One of the serving women offered the table of men a fresh pot of tea and was sent away sternly- dark eyes would brook no interruption of the miqo'te playing in the center of their vision. As her verse turned to honoring one's fathers by bold and brave action, the entire table stood and the tea house grew silent save for her playing. One of the men shouted something in Doman and pointed at Rhisi with a gunblade, his lips curling into a snarl. The hells broke loose. The serving women screamed and ducked out of the way, other men rose and scrabbled for their weapons, blades and spears and heavy clubs. Tables were overturned and voices were raised in shouts. And through it all, Rhisi did not cease her song, long lashes falling so that her eyes seemed closed. Her hands moved on the zither with a sudden ringing trill and her voice rang out with it and a slash appeared in the tunic of the gunblade-wielding Garlean. Then there was chaos, Doman fighting Garlean, clashing, shouting, blade ringing against blade, the echoing of gunshots, the splintering of wood as tables were crashed into or used as make-shift weapons. And over it all, Rhisi's voice and the tinkling notes of the zither. The commander fought his way to her only to find her on her feet, catching the blade of his weapon with her instrument. He shoved and she fell backwards, long sleeves of her robes catching her, tripping her. One of the Domans caught her and she was back on her feet, wrapping her sleeves around her arms and dashing for her pack. The zither was reduced to kindling and she mourned it's loss but it had done it's purpose. As she ran she bent to grab her pack only to feel the sudden searing cold of the gunblade against her ribs. The gunshot threw her forward and gave her the momentum to keep running, to drag her bloodspattered pack with her. She'd escaped, though enough of her lifeblood had been left on that floor that by rights she should have lain there with it. ---------------------- Rhisi sat in her bath, fingertips slowly running over the scar on her ribs. The thin slice that led to the star-shaped scar tissue where the bullet had passed through. The only reason she had survived was because her slim ribs had caught the blade- it had nicked the bone and gotten caught instead of passing through. The sound of the gunshot was something she'd never forget. It had been so loud she had been half-deaf for days as she had tried to heal herself, half-delirious with pain and on the edge of fever. One of the resistance had managed to track her, though she'd done her best to hide her trail, and found her lying half-dead in a creekbed. He'd gotten her to an herbalist. She'd stayed there only a few days, but they had been good days. She had learned a great deal. The song she had played on the zither fell from her lips in a soft hum and she smiled. It had been called "Honor". She wondered if she should translate it and sing it for the people of Eorzea.

((A series of stories about C'rhisi's travels)) She tossed and turned, the rain drumming hard on the slats of the cart above her head. The desert storm left the night pitch black and her eyes could not pierce the dark, though the Hall was a few feet away, a looming in the darkness that she could hear rather than see. Lightning flashed and thunder cracked in a boom that shook the earth under her and the cart above her and made the fountain shudder and creak and she was far, far away. ---------- She walked out of the bar with the small lute swung over her back. The smell of ceruleum and the stench of burning bomb fingers and hot steel turned her stomach but she kept her face carefully schooled into empty politeness. If a patroling security force caught her acting strangely, there could be questions, and though she could blame it on drink (coming out of a bar) it was just easier to hide her expression and avoid the questions altogether. Quietly, she slipped down the cermet streets, her hat pulled down low, her tail wrapped tightly around her waist and her ears hidden under a bandanna under her hat. She side-stepped a leg-less beggar on a streetcorner, the man too tired to even lift the cup where a few coppers were collected. The patrols would sweep him up soon unless he had a permit for that corner and he would be whipped. Her own back and ribs were striped from the first time she had been caught- she had been starving because no bar would let her play without the proper paperwork and she had gotten sick scrounging in garbage. They'd given her twenty lashes and a stern warning. She had gotten more clever after that, learned where the patrols did not go, where the other downtrodden and destitute would look out for each other. Eventually, she managed to find Resistance members and forged paperwork. In return, she occasionally sang songs that held hidden messages as she made her way across the Empire. It was a good trade. As she slipped through alleyways, the buildings grew meaner, dirtier, the scents grew thicker until she had to wrap a cloth around her mouth and nose. Walking through nearly tangible clouds of fog, she made her way into the broken down part of the city, slipping into a door and up a set of creaking stairs until she found herself in a bolthole that she'd been given the use of while she sang in this part of Garlemald. A simple mat on the floor, a bomb finger in an iron stove, her bulging travelling pack, and a pot for waste took up the entire space and she was grateful. Curling around her pack gratefully, Rhisi slipped her lute off her pack and tied it carefully to the knapsack so it would not be left behind if she had to run in a hurry. An oily rain streaked the small window set high in the wall as she settled down on the bed, the burning stove the only illumination. The buildings around her settled and she fell asleep to the shifting, cracking, creaking sounds and the distant crack of thunder. ------ The memory hit hard and fast, they way they did now. Rhisi was driven out of her bedroll and into the rain, walking in the clean desert storm until the shuddering stopped and her mind was free from the clutches of too many experiences. When she curled up in the bedroll again, she was soaked to the bone but her mind was empty...and the storm had stopped.

Maybe a February. Quite a chilly gaze.

"What if C'rhisi had come home?" "What if Mahvashi's parents had lived?"

Yes. They also sit next to your bed, lean 3 inches from your face, and go "Hey!" "Hey!" "Hey!" until you wake up and feed them. Well, what I do with my cat is chase him with a spray bottle whilst screaming at the top of my lungs "I AM THE GOD OF THUNDER!" I imagine such behaviour probably wouldn't work as well on Miqo'te. .......or would it? Only if that miqo'te is not also a thaumaturge, who would then, I imagine, zap you with lightning just to prove a point.