Fates Skein

*dumps Hornet in a tub of cold water* Look what you've all done! She's all we- You know what, nevermind. >.>

*laughs* I love updating them, it's just remembering to do it! Poor Vashi's isn't even done yet. >.> So much braining required!

Hornet's bringing the X into Crofte X Warren. (Should that be XXX?)

"Hmm, yes. Now tell me I'm pretty."

You'd think with only two characters I'd be able to keep up but noooope.

I'd go with either aetherially-enhanced metal or possibly even that it's enchanted with materia. Could even say that it's a weird by-product of the forging process if you want to go with a neat magical explanation. Maybe it was forged using water sprite cores?

Mahvashi sat on the edge of her bed in the Quicksand, thinking hard as she brushed her long, long hair. It took time to do the job properly and it always gave her a chance to think, to sort things out. With the smell of her shampoo dulling her senses to the scents that lingered in the inn room (shades of lodgers past, meals eaten, baths taken or needed, heated armor...) she was able to actually focus. The Coral Sea. It was a good place. Good people. She hadn't really gotten a sense of most of them yet and had the feeling that they would say the same for her. Starting off in a company after working in Ul'dah for so long was strange, a bit discomfiting to be a face in a line-up when she'd been a star. Truth be told, she found herself lonely. When she met up with her company-mates, they all seemed to have stories with one another, histories, inside-jokes that she was clever enough to recognize but not privy to. Her talents weren't aiding her much- not yet, anyway. She just had to catch the tail of the dragon and she was sure she could tame it, eventually. It was like infiltration work- find the weak link and work your way in. The trouble was, they all seemed to draw strength from each other... With a bit of shock, she realized that she was the weak link. It made her pause in her brushing for just a moment before she shook her head and resumed. Well, she'd joined looking for a challenge. It really shouldn't surprise her, she supposed, if the challenge that found her wasn't what she'd expected. A thought curled into her head and she smiled. Challenges. The Grindstone. Shido. Quick and clever, though he'd blushed so easily at her flirting. She hoped she'd see him again, fight him again. He wouldn't catch her flat-footed, this time. Honestly, the Grindstone had been the best thing to happen to her in a long time. Better than training with the Ishgardians, whose rigid structures made her chafe. No, the 'Stone was all flow and reaction, a place where she could use all her talents and skills in a way that felt dynamic, a way that felt good. Of course, fighting with unblunted blades had left her with a new appreciation for what her enemies must feel, not to mention some bruised ribs and a healthy wariness for 'unarmed' fighters. Still, it was fun, more fun than she'd expected, and a damn fine place to sight-see. Thank the gods for the heat of Thanalan. The miqo'te continued to brush her calf-length hair, musing away the time with idle fancies.

Aya! You and Mahvashi have to meet at some point. Both of them being dancers-turned-lancers and all that.

So very, very happy to hear you're back! Never got the chance to RP with you but enjoyed your contributions to the RPC. Hope you continue to recover quickly!

Mahvashi~!

Updated to add newest piece in "People" So, I’ve posted a couple of my most recent images (the raven tattoo and Kiko’s portrait) and I was wondering if anyone at all would be interested in commissioning me? I work best in traditional art (particularly pencils and ink) but I am growing better and better at digital and it would be nice to have a challenge. I’d be opening it up for portraits/busts, jewelry/weapons/trinkets, and potentially tattoo designs. I figure price point to start would be about $15. Why ask for pay? Well, tbh, I’m in disability limbo until I hear back from Social Security, I’ve just been diagnosed as having a mood stability disorder, and my medical bills are starting to stress myself and my husband terribly. At this point, every little bit helps. So, before I make a big fancy ‘Commission me!’ post, I’d like to check with you all. *laughs* Is this something you guys would be willing to signal boost?

Updated with new character's back tattoo. 2/19/14

Becoming One Once when Hydaelan was young The Lady of Flame walked her face And dreamed of love in the pale moonlight. And far away, and farther, A man of a forgotten land Gazed at the stars- And waited. The Lady, she sighed, and Prayed to the Lover bright. "Please, sweetest lady, let me find my love tonight." The Lover shone her brightest face On the Lady of Flame and the man so far away, And in her Light it was whispered, "Wait, oh wait, and love you shall know." And the years went by And the moons and suns too And the Spinner's loom kept spinning And Fate found her way through. The Lady of the Flame was lost And the man with the forgotten land Could not find his way. Until they met one another Under the light of the pale, pale moon. It took only a moment Their eyes met and could not look away And their hearts expanded And their minds were cleared And that is how two Became One. Two Sisters- A story of Menphina and Azeyma Long ago, when the stars in the skies were grains of sand and visible all the time, Azeyma and Menphina went a-walking. Their father, Althyk, was out wandering, seeing to his newest creation- Hydaelyn. The sisters stood on the cool sands of the twilight and each took to pointing out their favorite stars. Azeyma loved the brightest- those whose fire was so bright they dwarfed the stars around them, but Menphina loved the smaller stars, those not as bright but brilliant when compared to the dark. It did not take long before the sisters began to argue the merits of their stars-of-choice. "-My- stars are so bright they light everything around them!" Azeyma cried, while Menphina objected, "Yes, but -my- stars are all the more important because of the darkness!" And back and forth they quarrelled, their voices growing louder as they proclaimed their love for their stars. At last, they stood facing one another, nose to nose, their eyes blazing. "MY STARS are better because they are brighter!" Azeyma yelled. "Oh yeah?! Well MY STARS are better because they more GENTLE!" Menphina yelled back. "ENOUGH!" cried a voice that made both sisters tremble in shame. Before them stood their aunt, the great goddess Nymeia, Weaver and guardian of fate. The sisters quailed before the great goddess and her veil of white. She stood tall before them in her anger. "You are both gifted by your father to know the value of light! Do not shame his gift by quarrelling over it's relative merits." She pointed at Azeyma. "You, you are the elder and yet you do not have the wisdom to know that just because a light is softer does not mean it is lesser. As punishment, you shall cross the world's face for 12 bells, and your light shall be so bright that the people of Hydaelyn will fear it." The great goddess then pointed at Menphina. "Though you are the younger, you should have had the wisdom to see that just because a light is more brilliant, does not mean it is not also gentle. Your punishment shall be to cross the world at odds to your sister, and in your soft light the people of Hydaelyn will grow lost and confused." "Until you both have grown wisdom, doomed you are to meet but twice a day- and then the light shall be of the stars you both cherish." As the goddess of fate faded away, the sisters rose to their new positions- Azeyma, the sun, Menphina, the moon. And as they rose they wept for they knew their aunt was harsh but fair. In time, the sisters learned- their dawn and twilight meetings found each a little wiser every day. Azeyma became known as the Warden, for soon she was able to dim her light until it was not death to the people, but life and nourishment. And Menphina became known as the Lover, for she learned to glow a little brighter, and in her light the people came together, to dance and sing and love. And their father, wisest and eldest of gods, smiled. Greenwoods- a song of the Shroud The sweet winds blow In the trees for me And in their song I hear The call of home Of the trees I know Where never knew I fear The seas are green and red and gold Here in my forest home And in the night the stars alight And guide me with their glow Sing, sing, oh leaves of home Sing me your greenwoods song! And in the night, by the fire's light, I'll never be alone... The beasts of home they know my name the streams and rivers too And when I hunt, or sleep, or sing greenwoods i think of you Sing sing oh leaves of home Sing me your greenwoods song! And in the night By the stars bright light, I'll never be alone Nay I'll never be alone The Lady and the Knight In days of yore And ages past There was a beautiful Hyur lass. Her hair was gold Spun pure and fine And her lips were red As darkest wine. The maiden fair She loved a knight And she would sing In her delight. Her love was strong, And good and bold, He feared no man... And loved not gold. The father of the lady Despised the Knight For he held no power No political might. He forbid his daughter With her hair of gold To meet with the knight So good and bold. But their love was true And no passing cloud So no man could forbid What the gods had allowed. The knight and the lady Fled the kingdom in the night T heir love was their beacon An endless light. And if one day in the forest A bird alights there On the simple thatched roof Of a quiet lair. He would see a lady Her hair so gold and fair Embracing her knight And they are happy there. Song of Sastasha In the caverns of Sastasha A pirate crew invaded Women and men fell To swords and axes heavy-bladed. The Father called together Adventurers brave and bold Into the depths they leapt For honor, glory, and gold. The axe-maiden stood before them The Father stood between The swordsman and the pikeman Their blades shone with a killing sheen. Into the depths they wandered Into the lion's roar The pirates they encounted They fought and fell to the floor. A mighty Coeurl pawed the stone And roared his hunger, loudly, The axe, the sword, the pike, And the Father felled it proudly. The pirates were no challenge To friends and colleagues brave and bold They fought the mate and Captain And sent them to the 'hold. At last, the challenge came forward A beastman, a Sahagin tall and fell, The axe-maiden fought with valor And the Father healed her well- The swordsman slashed and parried And the pikeman stabbed it true The Sahagin wailed, and fought, and died. And the comrades followed through. When at last they returned and their story told They proved themselves comrades, so brave and bold.

((A comprehensive post of the songs and stories that C'rhisi has written/sung/told.))

Updated 1/23/14 with a portrait of C'rhisi.

So...I like to draw. I like to draw with traditional media and digitally, though I'm still working out the kinks with the digital stuff. Here are some of the things I like to draw: People! Trinkets! Weapons! Tattoos! If people like the way I draw, I would love to draw things for you!

The Anniversary The bar was jumping- men and women of all races and walks of life had filled the Drowning Wench nearly wall to wall. Getting a table was completely out of the picture- getting a drink was an act of the Twelve. Still, it was the one place she could go to get the kind of brandewine she wanted. A Roegadyn, drunk already, stood up as she was slipping through the crowd and spilled his foul-smelling ale down her front. The look on her face made him stumble back- it wasn't angry so much as cold, cold, cold. In an instant, Anais had grabbed the half-full mug, ripped it out of his hand, and used it as a make-shift set of brass knuckles, cracking him across the jaw in a vicious left hook. He fell to the ground in a heap and his friends, luckily, laughed at the sight of the small, slim Elezen woman taking him down. She dropped the mug on his unconscious form and stepped over him, heading to the bar. Baderon was busy filling orders and he didn't look up at first when she used her sharp elbows to get herself a place along the wooden planks. She waited, straining her patience, and when he finally had a moment and fixed her with a look it shifted from harried bartender to sympathetic old friend. Turned, reached into the stock of bottles he kept in the back cupboard, and turned back to her, holding out a bottle of fifty year old cherry brandewine. She took it without a word, turned on her heel, and marched out of the bar. Once she was in the clear ocean air, away from the packed bar and the various smells and sounds of unwashed Eorzeans, Anais walked with quick steps to one of the quietest places in Limsa Lominsa- the docks. The workers were all taking a holiday on the day of remembrance, so she weaved her way through the normally bustling boxes and bags of cargo, her steps finding a path through the rat's nest of rope without stumbling. She finally sat down at the very edge of the pier, crossing her legs and dangling them over the edge and setting her bottle of liquor next to her. The sun was starting it's descent in the sky, making the waves catch fire. The Elezen woman closed her eyes and blindly grabbed for the bottle. She uncorked it with her teeth, spit the cork into the water, and tilted it back, pouring the smooth liqor with the dry bite down her throat in a motion that reeks of desperation. When she sets the half-emptied bottle back down on the pier, hard, she feels the fire bloom in her belly and lays back on the pier, staring at the racing clouds with satisfaction that she will be too drunk to dream by the time night falls. 6 years ago, the Sea of Jade The red moon, Menphina's Hound, had broken through the atmosphere and hung above the world like a glowing promise. The tides had been devastated by it's descent for days- the sea had responded to it's elemental pull by turning into a maelstrom, whirlpools developing in previously calm seas, waves the height of Sirius Pharos rising out of nowhere and causing devastation. Anais had personally taken the wheel of the Black Lotus, her teeth bared and her face taking on an insane cast in the dark red light. In her holds were three score refugees- old and young, men, women, and children- all of them counting on her to get them away from Ala Mhigo and the Garlean blockade that surrounded her by sea and air. She had taken the black-lacquered ship with her strangely-shaped triangular sails through a hole blasted by the small cannons located on the lower deck but the Empire bastards were close behind. The Void Flower had a moment to wonder if the damned moon was working for the Garleans when the boy in the crow's nest shouted at the same time that her carbuncles let out harsh screams in her head and suddenly winked out. Anais' head whipped to starboard, just as the first massive key exploded out of Dalamud's glowing surface. She saw the mushroom cloud of dust, debris, and bodies rise, even malms away, and dared a glance upwards. "Captain! ANAIS!" Her first mate, Seax, a big highlander with an easy smile that normally made her heart contract, especially in the light of the candles of her cabin, was shaking her. The sight of Dalamud cracking open like some ill-omened egg had stunned her like a strike to the side of the head. Seax was staring at her and beyond him she could see her ship, her Lotus, starting to take on water from massive waves. She shoved him out of the way with strength born from adrenaline and grabbed the wheel, heaving it to port. The ship was a responsive vessel, made for maneuverability and speed versus war. It leapt at Anais' touch and they managed to ride the waves as they came. The screams of fear from the hold died down and she had a moment, a breath of frozen time, to think they might make it out of this. That was before the flare struck. It was chaos, madness. The waves rose to a height so high that Anais couldn't even see the tops. The shadows of sea creatures shone, backlit by the flare, in the moment before the wave struck her ship. She was ripped away from the wheel and tumbled overboard, the rail striking her in the hip and shattering it. Under and over, catching a breath of air here and a lungful of water there, she tumbled and rolled in the waves, hands reaching for her ship, for Seax, for a time when the world wasn't pain and saltwater and pressure on her chest. She rose to the surface as a wave began to gather and, treading water frantically with two good arms and one good leg, Anais turned, seeking her ship. She couldn't comprehend what she was seeing- spars of wood, cracked so that the black lacquer revealed the pale innards. Blood dark as wine on the water, spreading from the wounded. Men and women...oh gods...and children, floating like dolls with improbable, impossible wounds- missing limbs and skin burned black and heads stoved in so they looked like a destructive child had stormed in and torn her ship asunder like a play chest. Here and there, crew and refugees floated on spars of wood that had broken off of the Lotus. As she watched, most surrendered to the high waves and the boiling seas. The Lotus was gone. In an instant, her entire life and everyone and everything she loved...gone. As she watched the highest mast crack and fall, the sails floating like bridal veils for just a moment before sinking, Anais stopped paddling, stopped treading water, and gave up. She was the Captain, it was all she was and all she would ever be. Without her ship, without her crew, she was nothing. When she sank beneath the waves and the sounds of screams and cracking wood vanished, Anais let out her breath and welcomed the dark. The Anniversary, evening, the pier of Limsa Lominsa Of course, the problem had been that she did not die. That's what was wrong with the gods- they take everything away from you then don't even have the common decency to accept your life and add it to the pile. That was why she was here, too drunk to remain upright, laying on her back on the pier and staring at the stars as they shimmered above her in triplicate. She had woken up onshore, on one of the small islands off of the coast of Thanalan. Her body had somehow been hooked across the figurehead of her ship- a woman with her eyes blindfolded and the tail of a sea serpent, holding a flowering lotus- and had floated with the chaotic tides until being cast ashore. When she rolled over and felt the pain of her shattered hip, the torn muscles in her arms and chest (a relic of trying to steer the ship away from destruction in those last moments), the emptiness in her heart, Anais had screamed and screamed and screamed, until her salt-ravaged throat had bled and she was forced to swallow or drown. She had been found by a passing Limsan patrol- seeking survivors, they said- and had been healed by the ship's doctor and borne back to the city she had sailed out of only weeks before. She had started drinking that night. And she had not stopped until the day she saw the brilliant yellow of Obsidian Hornet's armor in the Drowning Wench. The bottle of brandewine floated in the water, having rolled off. The gentle 'thumpthumpthump' of the empty bottle against the pillars was just loud enough to drown out the quiet, helpless sounds of one lost Elezen woman, weeping at the providence of life.

I play my 3 miqo'te in slightly different fashions. All of them have excellent hearing and senses of smell. C'rhisi is a sun seeker from a desert area. She has many traits of lionesses- growls instead of purrs, semi-retractable and extremely sharp claws, upper and lower fangs (the canines and the 1st premolars which are right behind the canines are all sharp). Her ears and tail as well as her stance are expressive of her emotions even when her face or voice show something else- like when she's trying to be polite but is really angry her tail and ears will show it even when her voice is sweet. She'll roar if really furious and I play her as having a wider range of vocalizations than a human would. I have also toyed with the idea of her having pads on her feet though that's not something I'm fully set on. C'rhisi also has excellent vision for movement but does not have a particularly good sense of color. She can recognize various colors but when things get into subtle shade differences she can't really tell (and thus has worn slightly mis-matched dyes before, like wine and dalamud red together in one outfit for instance). I've a moon keeper that is based more on panthers. She, also, has expressive ears and tail, has a growl to her voice when she is happy (not a purr), and though I've not played this out yet, if truly enraged or hurt, she'd scream. (Look up leopard scream or cougar scream on youtube for examples). She, too, has claws and fangs- she even lacquers her claw-tips to make them more obvious. Lastly is another moon keeper that I haven't really decided on yet. I do know I will likely base her on a wild cat versus a domesticated one. Possibly something like a caracal or ocelot.

Please sign up C'rhisi Tohbei for this. I think this event is -perfect- for her.

What a fantastic idea!! Definitely sharing with my FC-mates.

Sincere congratulations, Freelance!!

I also echo that whomever told you to leave the server was being a twit. That kind of attitude is far, far poorer form than -any- lore bending or outright lore breaking. We're all here creating together and in a game where official lore has a large, LARGE number of holes as well as a fair number of contradictions between in-game and out-of-game statements, I can't believe that someone would be that...militant. Well, actually I can, cause some people are twits, but yeah. I'm no lore expert at all so I won't put myself forward as that, but I will say that I'd be happy to RP with you.

Aaaaand now I have even -more- reason to do my dailies. (I want that drake!!) *runs into game to get back to work*

I read the title, said to myself, Nooo, are they really...? and then read the rest of the thread and did a little dance of joy. I will begin to work on things both from Anais' point of view and C'rhisi's. And I just have to add- I love you guys so much. *tear*

I admit I prefer for FC's tags to reflect what they are. The Cartel's tag is BLC. I supposed I could change it to BLC-RP as we are an RP-focused FC. I find it difficult to take a group seriously if they have a silly tag. It seems somehow...unprofessional? That's not the right word but it's not really about immersion or anything, more about how you choose to present yourself as the member of an FC. If my FC tag is ROFLMAO but my FC's statement and purpose are heavy-RP based storylines dealing with realistic consequences to in character actions, it creates a cognitive disconnect for people. I suppose if your FC -is- silly, light, playful or whatever, then it's not that big a deal. I do play with nameplates off unless I click. But when I click on someone that's walking and see the tag (for instance), I'm going to wonder if they're an RPer that's in a social FC, or if they're a griefer, or if they're walking because they can't figure out how to toggle it off, but I'm not going to be able to immediately identify them as someone that RPs if that makes sense.