Edda

Franz x Jancis. This has to work.

They are scaly miqo'te. Only the dudes are taller.

This suddenly seems rather dangerous.

The Anticipation of Ass.

Aaaaaand Machinist confirmed. Get hype.

http://blog.livedoor.jp/umadori0726/archives/42496180.html Flying dragon mount.

http://blog.livedoor.jp/umadori0726/archives/42494715.html Astrologian stuff.

It's really up to preference if you want to use it switch back into Astral Fire. It will save a bit of MP and make your first Fire I much more powerful. At later levels however, transpose will only become useful after a double flare! So don't worry about it too much!

Massive Bitch

Ayyyyy it's Kupel. What a bro.

Essentially, yeah. Of course, you would be held to a resolute double-standard. Edda's so used to being so well taken care of when sick, I imagine she would expect soup, tea and sympathy from everyone... even cretins.

((Er, I wrote more... Christ, I've forgotten how mortifying this could be. Harsh feedback is still the best, please don't let the Garlean set the precedent.)) The main garden was a rather private area, cut off from prying eyes from the outside, however rare it was for strangers to get so close to the manor. A large fountain decorated the center of it, and the arrangements of plants never stayed the same for very long. The garden had seen varying levels of use throughout the many generations of Eglantines. Edda and her brother had spent time there often, but after his death she came to avoid it. Ennis and Eamon had no great love of it. Edda’s mother, Marian, spent the most time on it, ordering native flowers and shrubs from Gridania to be planted within, so that it might remind her of home. Edda and Ennis entered the garden through the main study. The room bordered the garden, and let out onto a veranda through several triple hung windows. There were a few small garden tables and chairs that sat overlooking the garden, sitting comfortably under the shade of the porch roof. The sun was higher in the sky now, but the morning air was cooled by the breeze from the Western Indigo Deep. Ennis motioned to her retainer Lauda, who always kept within earshot of Ennis should anything happen to her. She disappeared back into the study to make for the kitchens, and the two sisters took a seat at one of the tables. There were still a few workers in the gardens, and Edda and Ennis watched them work in silence for a short while. “See what I mean?” Ennis leaned in slightly to whisper. She nodded to an uncharacteristically short Sea Wolf, who seemed to be struggling with the thorns on a large bush. Lauda returned with a tray of tea and petit fours. “I’m not sure you could do any better, Ennis,” Edda remarked dryly. “Oh, that isn’t the point. It’s not my job to tend to the garden. But if I were being paid to do so, I would hope to do a good job.” Edda bit into a petit four and decided not to pursue the subject at hand. A wise decision apparently, as Ennis smiled at Edda as she added sugar to her tea. “So,” Ennis continued. “Why not tell me about some of those commoners you met?” “I thought you said you weren’t interested. What were the words you used? ‘Bore me to tears,’ or something along those lines?” “I didn’t say that!” Ennis feigned an offended look. “I’m merely wondering how you managed to get along with the sort of rabble that are out there, that’s all. I find it shocking that anyone had the patience to withstand your company for any extended period of time. I hear those adventurer types can be as quick to kill you as they are to even look at you.” “You will find such stories to be greatly exaggerated.” Edda finished off a second petit four without even realizing it, and gave Ennis a disapproving look. “I know you’re not the type to believe everything you hear. Do try not to get so caught up in your own fantasies.” Ennis glared at Edda over her cup of tea, and downed some of it rather quickly. It was unwise of her to drink so fast, but Edda held her tongue. “Prove me wrong, then.” Edda looked out to the garden and inhaled to speak before Ennis interrupted her. “And not about that Hellsguard of yours, please. I’ve heard enough deriding statements from father to last me a lifetime.” It would seem Ennis’ proclivity for reading the thoughts of others had increased, and Edda furrowed her brows in frustration. Where to start? “Well, there was the mercenary woman who loved to dye her hair and could read and write, though it’s been some time since I last saw her. There was the hat-loving bard with rather alarming aim, the Duskwight fellow who sold blank books for whatever cause, and the young lalafell from The Still Shore who charmed me into buying her an assortment of cakes from the Bismarck...” Ennis frowned at the brief descriptions, and shot Edda a distrustful glare. “Are you sure you’re not making this up? I don’t believe such characters could all gather together and manage to get along at all. Do they even have names?” It was of little doubt that the idea of a mercenary being literate or a Duskwight knowing what a book even looked like was incomprehensible to Ennis. It was a tad dramatic, but Edda sighed in exasperation. “Of course they have names, Ennis. Don’t be ridiculous. And no, I’m not making this up – they are but a few examples. And if anything, they were rather tame compared to that band of murderers that turned to black ooze and managed to come back from being killed.” “Yes, yes, father told me all about that. Maybe not all of it, but enough to know something nefarious was at play. Rather silly of you, involving yourself in something so dangerous.” Edda shifted in her seat, the discomfort of the memory not one she would like to dwell on. “It was not voluntary.” In what appeared to be a rare act of kindness, Ennis did not press the subject. “Was there anyone else interesting?” After taking a moment to think and dwell in self-doubt, Edda began to speak slowly. “…You know of the Rochesters, rights?” Ennis scowled for a moment. “The merchant family from Ul’dah?” “Yes, the very same. I met their daughter.” “The one that was kidnapped?” Ennis looked utterly bewildered. “Yes. Well, that was the story, and I’m not quite sure it’s true.” A pause. “I’m still not entirely sure what the actual story was, but yes, I met her.” “Hmph.” Ennis leaned back in her chair and nibbled on a cake. “Well that must have been quite nice,” she said dryly. “A brief respite of nobility and grace in that dump of a city, I’m sure.” “It managed to grow on me,” Edda said, and it was the truth. The weather in Thanalan was still a point of contention for her, but once the charms of the city came out of the woodwork, they were not lost on her. “Oh, I’m sure,” Ennis drawled. Her voice dripped with sarcasm and a sly smile blossomed on her face. Choosing to ignore the sudden change in Ennis’ manner, Edda busied herself with the food on the table. The two sat in silence for a while, snacking on the remaining sweets and finishing their tea. The temperature had begun to warm, and though it was not very far from Mist, the smell of the air in Summerford was entirely different. It had been some time since Edda had sat and enjoyed the garden, not since before the death of her elder brother. The two had spent time here frequently. The garden had been much more magnificent during that time – wisteria vines wrapped around the edge of the veranda, and trumpet vine on the pillars that supported them. Rows of carnations and sweet briar encircled the fountain with towering rose bushes in every color imaginable that enclosed the pathways within. It was a funny thing, to feel nostalgia for a sight that was so familiar and always close at hand. And though she still longed to explore the world that had only just been open to her, Edda felt at peace here, knowing that even if she never truly belonged anywhere else, she would always have this place. Enough time had passed that the workers in the garden finished, and left to tend to the shrubs and plants on the rest of the grounds. Ennis coughed lightly and sat upright, the same sly grin returning to her face. “So, tell me dear sister,” she began. “Aside from the encounters you mention, did you have any special encounters whilst you stayed in Ul’dah?” Ennis knew her sister well enough to know the meaning would be lost on her. “What do you mean?” Edda frowned. “I had just told you, did I not? Surely you don’t mean to hear all of them.” “Oh.” Ennis’ expression quickly soured, and she sighed. “Did you really not learn a thing while you were there? Surely you cannot be so dense as all that.” “What are you talking about, Ennis?” “I’m asking if you enjoyed the primal company of men – or women, you know I’m not one to spill secrets or mete out judgments – when you were abroad?” Were it not for Ennis’ use of the word ‘primal,’ the meaning behind her words might have still been lost on Edda. But it was able to suffice, and a sharp hue of red colored her cheeks. She looked a mix between angry and scandalized, as if the very idea was as condemning as the action. “Of course not!” Edda put a hand to her chest, her heart beating wildly at the abruptness of Ennis’ question. “Hm, so, still utterly kissless, are you? What a shame.” Edda glared, her face still red. “Oh, because you aren’t?” “At least I have an excuse.” She paused. “…Are you sure? At least not a little?” “Yes!” Edda had begun to cool off, but her face was still an attractive shade of pink. “What a thing to ask… What brought that on?” “Curiosity,” Ennis said and shrugged. There seemed to be more at hand than she was letting on. “It is a bit surprising, though. Quite unlike you.” Edda had the grace to look offended, even though she knew Ennis was pulling at strings to get a rise out of her. “If anything, I’d say it would be unlike me to do otherwise. Surely you know me better than that.” “Regrettably,” Ennis remarked. “That is of course not to say that you sought it out, but… even your dreadful lack of self-awareness couldn’t protect you from the depravity of men, especially the types to be found in Ul’dah. And I won’t believe you if you insist you didn’t attract any sort of attention like that.” “But I didn’t,” Edda insisted, and it was true. “Of course not.” Ennis rolled her eyes. “Somehow I’m not quite sure you’re telling the truth. Even if you dressed yourself in rags, a young pretty thing such as yourself might still be found attractive. In fact, you could even wear a mask.” Her eyes drifted towards Edda’s chest. “Such useless sacks of fat speak loud enough to overpower whatever myriad of flaws you may possess, at least to those looking only for fun.” “Don’t tease me, Ennis, it’s unbecoming of you. In any case, I was not,” Edda frowned and blushed once more, and her expression grew quite cross. “…Propositioned. And even if I were, would it matter? I’d have no part in such things.” “Yes, yes, ever the saint. But you’ve been trying to learn just a little, have you not? About that wondrous world between the sheets, as they say. No doubt you’re old enough to learn, I can’t blame you.” Edda looked utterly confused. “What are you saying?” “Oh, don’t play dumb. Really, there’s no harm in it!” Ennis laughed softly, and smiled a suspiciously knowing smile. “I’ve no time to play mind games with you.” “Don’t be like that, darling,” Ennis said through fits of laughter, and waved Lauda over. She whispered something into her retainer’s ear, who promptly scurried off into the house. “It’s alright; I’ll help you to the very best of my abilities. It’s precious to see you trying so hard, but I do think you’re going about it all the wrong way.” Knowing that silent treatment or lashing out had no effect on her, Edda did her best to stare placidly at Ennis from across the table. She waited for Ennis’ laughter to subside before speaking to her. “It must be very exciting for you,” she said. It was a vague remark, the kind Ennis hated. “Believe me, it is.” It was then Lauda returned through a window, and presented Ennis with a small book. Edda recognized it instantaneously, and her heart sank. She watched as Ennis accepted the book, the cold sensation of dread and sadness spreading from her sternum to fill her lungs and sit in her belly. It was the book of poetry Natalie had bequeathed her before her sudden passing. Edda had not yet opened it, the lingering guilt of her death stopping her from doing so. However selfish of her it was to blame herself, there was a small degree of truth in her fault – one she would never allow herself to forget. “I took the liberty of going through your luggage,” Ennis began. She flipped through the pages of the book idly, glancing between it and Edda. “And imagine my surprise to find something so bawdy in your belongings. I had thought it some sort of mistake at first; it was so uncharacteristic of you. Perhaps I was mistaken though, hm?” Edda’s throat was dry. Watching her sister page through it so flippantly filled her with muted anger, and Edda clenched her fists in her lap. “And how uncharacteristic of you to sift through my belongings without my permission. I’ve met mercenaries that had better manners.” “Well, if it wasn’t in your room, I’d say it’s completely fair of me. And what else is there to do here, truly?” Ennis smiled and closed the book. “But enough of that, have you learned anything insightful from here?” Edda clenched her teeth before speaking. “I have yet to read it.” “Of course you haven’t,” Ennis said. She was clearly unconvinced. “Which poem is your favorite? I haven’t finished it yet, but there was one that stood out…” Ennis turned in her seat to rest the book on the table, and began slowly leafing through the pages. Edda watched in perfect silence, her knuckles white. “Ah, here it is.” Ennis cleared her throat dramatically and began to read: “There once was a sailor from Aleport, Whose manhood was just ever so short, But milk him all night, And do it just right, And the Seaman could fill half a quart!” Ennis laughed and Edda flushed heavily, out of both embarrassment and anger. After her laughter subsided, Ennis continued to browse the book. “And there was another one, a sonnet on the forbidden passion between a Sea Wolf and Dunesfolk…” She giggled to herself, and that was enough. Edda reached across the table and snatched the book right out of her sister’s hands. She set the book in her lap and smoothed over the cover absently. “I think that’s enough,” Edda said coolly. Even with the book back in her possession, it was not enough to quell the rising irritation she felt. Even if she had tried, Ennis’ strength was not enough to stop Edda to taking the book from her. Ennis sighed and leaned back in her chair. “You’re no fun. Still, I didn’t expect you to be reading such tripe. Or have your tastes always been so banal?” “It is not mine.” A half-truth. “Which explains why it was with your luggage.” “It was a gift.” “They must have not known you very well, to get you something like that. Do you even know what ‘manhood’ means? Still, I’d love to contact whoever decided to give you this, of all things. They must been quite a piece of work.” “I’m afraid they passed away.” Edda spoke calmly, though she felt anything but. “Pity,” Ennis said. “Seems to be the common story over on the mainland. What happened, bar fight gone south? Mugged? The clap?” “It is unseemly to speak ill of the dead, Ennis.” Edda frowned at her sister and gripped the book tightly. Her tone was even and measured, but any warmth it might have previously had was gone. Ennis looked bewildered for a moment and sputtered, before giving Edda an incredulous look. “Bold words, coming from you.” “Do not start with that,” Edda warned. It was too late, however, and Ennis gave a nasty sneer. “Always with the high and mighty act. You’re just so flawless, aren’t you? But I’ll hear no lectures about respect for the dead, not from you.” “Stop it, Ennis.” “Oh, what? Still pretending to mourn the loss of our dearest brother, even after you sent him to his death?” The two were past the point of civility at this point. “You know that was not the way of things, and yet you still persist! If you must despise me, then do so, but pinning the blame on others will do nothing to assuage you.” Edda rose from her seat, holding the book with one hand at her side. “Running away, are you? You never were one for seeing the truth.” Ennis looked up at her from her seat. Aside from the nasty expression on her face, she otherwise appeared calm. “I don’t have the patience to deal with you when you are like this.” Edda stared down at her sister with a cold look. “You are speaking out of place. I suggest you return to your room.” “So now you decide to act as the proper heir and throw your weight around? Don’t make me laugh. All the fake tears you cried could never mask the fact that you never wanted this.” Edda’s nostrils flared and she looked away sharply. “Lauda,” she called out. “Please escort my sister back to her room. She’s had enough excitement for one sun.” The retainer hurried over to Ennis’ side to help her up. She swatted Lauda’s hands away and stood on her own, glaring at Edda all the while. “Don’t run away from it. Don’t pretend it isn’t true.” Edda turned to look at Ennis. Her accusations were harsh but Edda could not deny the sliver of truth therein. Ennis had loved their brother a great deal, and perhaps she was not wrong in her way of dealing with her grief. Yet the hate that seethed from her sister now sat within Edda’s heart like a glacier. Confronted with the reality of it, Edda wanted to scream until there was no more breath in her lungs. But Edda’s face remained stony and composed – a side effect of many years of training. “You are not the only one,” Edda began, “that grieves for him.” She spoke slowly, but could not fully mask the wavering of her voice. Ennis’ face grew even darker as Lauda stood nervously behind her. “Ha! Don’t make me laugh. You may have grieved for him, but we both know what you truly lost that night was your only ticket out of here.” Edda did not hesitate before she reached out and slapped her sister. There was nothing to be said. She brushed past the two to make her way back to her room and ignored the stinging sensation behind her eyes. ((To Be Continued?)) :chocobo:

...never. It's all in jest though. I think. Aeylis is going to punch Franz, just for Edda! I gotchu, gurl.

One day, perhaps. I'll have you know it's incredibly taxing trying to get on the bad side of someone who seems to enjoy pain so much. Keep AFKing through my thinly-veiled marriage proposals though, and Franz will know true terror.

Whut? SMN may be my weakest class, but I'm pretty sure the filler spell you'll be using between refreshing dots is regular old Ruin. If you're looking to maximize your dps though, Ruin 2 should be used before every off-GCD skill you use, like Fester and Aetherflow. Other than that it's just a waste of MP, which SMN can burn through pretty quickly anyway. But Thaarus has a point in that most i130 caster gear has spell speed on it, which is ass for SMN. ASS. Not to mention FCOB SMN are moving to BLM... Can't say I blame them. Even if they don't particularly enjoy the class, BLM benefits from Spell Speed much more than SMN could ever even hope to. BLMs have their weaknesses in turns that require high mobility like T11, but even then... The BLM bias this patch. So sad.

Whut? SMN may be my weakest class, but I'm pretty sure the filler spell you'll be using between refreshing dots is regular old Ruin. If you're looking to maximize your dps though, Ruin 2 should be used before every off-GCD skill you use, like Fester and Aetherflow. Other than that it's just a waste of MP, which SMN can burn through pretty quickly anyway. But Thaarus has a point in that most i130 caster gear has spell speed on it, which is ass for SMN. ASS.

Yeah, this guy. And not because he just blue-balled the whole thread. Too bad Edda can't kill him, since her body is made of wet spaghetti.

((Um, so... I've never done anything like this before, like forum RP or story stuff or anything. At this point already I feel as if I've already cocked the whole thing up, but what the hell, right? At the very least I can supply a few good laughs. Like most homo sapiens, I get a bit nervous at the thought of others reading my writing, but I would appreciate feedback, mostly the negative-yet-constructive kind, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers. Anyway, the background for this story was left somewhat vague on purpose, just know that this is Edda in her boring as FUG home but... it's different... I guess??????? Free shrugs over here ladies, I could do this all night. This is the part where I scurry off into the darkness and pretend I never posted this for a few hours. Wheeeee!)) It was, perhaps, unreasonable to expect anything but clement weather in Summerford. Aside from the occasional storm clouds and regular yet short-lived rainstorms that drifted in from across the sea, it was a rather fair part of Eorzea, if only slightly less than it had been before the Calamity. It had been scarcely a bell since the sun had been fully in the sky, and the morning clouds had already begun their journey across the Strait of Merlthor. There was a chorus of birds from the garden outside, and the sounds of retainers beginning their routine began to echo throughout the building. It was a gorgeous day, and yet Edda was nothing short of wretched. She awoke to the sound of M’jhimei entering her room with fresh clothes and a washbowl as she did every sun for as long as Edda could remember. The wood floor was cold from the previous night, and Edda shivered as she made her way over to wash and allow M’jhimei to dress her. They exchanged not a word, a recent development after Edda’s sudden return home. Perhaps borne out of her own stubbornness, or her father’s orders to her retainers –whatever they were- Edda sat in silence as M’jhimei brushed and styled her hair. After inspecting herself in the mirror with great apathy, Edda made her way down to the dining hall where breakfast awaited, along with her father. Her father Eamon sat at the head of a table that could seat thirty, and made no outward note of her arrival in the room. He was a sharp looking man, with slicked back hair and narrow, appraising eyes that never seemed to look anything but disinterested. Edda sat to his right in silence as she began to eat her breakfast – poached dodo eggs, perch, and toast with apples and cheese. Eamon poured over whatever news and mail had come in that morning, and opted to ignore Edda until she had nearly finished her meal. “Settling in?” He asked, setting his papers aside. Had it been asked by anyone else, Edda would have thought it a flippant remark, but her father was always serious. Edda delayed her answer by taking a drink of orange juice. “Nothing has changed here.” “Is there any reason it might?” “No,” Edda replied quickly, and her mind drifted to a few trunks of her unpacked luggage, still sitting in the front hall. Eamon studied her for a moment, a faint smile on his lips. “Are you really so angry with me?” “I am not angry.” A lie. “Well, whatever it is, I would suggest you get over it quickly. It’s bad enough with one child moping about the house every sun. I daresay your mother has gotten her way for far too long.” “Where is mother, by the way?” Edda had noticed her absence at breakfast, but it was not unusual for her to take breakfast in bed sometimes, as Ennis did. “Gone to Gridania, early this morning.” Faucillien, Chief Retainer to the family, began serving tea. “That dreadful Aunt of hers finally passed away. A living relic, she was. May Thal keep her soul close or some such, though I wouldn’t blame him should he want to send her back.” Edda only met her Great Aunt when she was still nursing, and has no recollection of the woman at all. “You didn’t see her very often,” Edda said plainly, but her tone was not accusatory. “Three times,” Eamon said. “And trust me, the first time was more than enough. I’ll be content to never receive a letter from her again.” Faucillien cracked a smile as he stood with his back to the wall, but it went unnoticed. Leaning forward slightly, Eamon softened his voice as he spoke to Edda. “When you are older, you will come to understand that your extended family will not always be your closest allies, if they could even be called allies at all.” Edda smiled an appeasing smile at her father. “I shall endeavor to not trust the family of my future husband, then. Although I hope to have the grace to pay my respects at their burials, when the time comes to do so.” Eamon smiled back as he sipped his tea, his eyebrows quirked in amusement. “Are you sure those Raven fellows didn’t switch you out for a look-alike at Moraby? Such lip, and so early. Or have you been taking lessons from your dear sister?” “I see no cause in hiding my thoughts from you. Did you not say earlier that it was impossible to keep secrets from you?” Edda pursed her lips at the memory of his hand around her wrist and a cold slap across her cheek. He had not been in the wrong, but the easiness of his cruelty and the bitterness of her defeat sat heavy in her heart. “I did say that, yes. If you must spit vitriol to someone then, I suppose it must be me. Do be sure to not allow any of our guests to see it, however. The Sidney family is visiting this evening, as I’m sure you remember.” “Always thinking of the family, aren’t you.” “Yes,” Eamon said. His expression grew serious. “Such is the burden of my position, Edda – a burden you shall one day bear. You’ve no time to be out playing commoner with whatever filth you kept for company. You were only let out there due to your mother’s insistence, and the Twelve know Ennis is at least tolerable when you’re out of the house… But in lieu of your recent actions, it’s apparent that enough is enough.” Edda frowned, a familiar stinging sensation rising to the back of her eyes. “And what would you know of it?” Eamon had always been quick to play his seniority. “A great deal more than you,” he said, ending the conversation. He rose from his chair and handed the papers at the table to Faucillien. He would take them to her father’s office, which had been locked shut ever since Edda had been caught sifting through his private documents several suns ago. “Remember, dinner with the Sidneys. I will have a dress picked out for you.” And with that, he left. With her father and Faucillien gone from the dining hall, a few retainers entered the room to begin clearing the table. Despite being the heir to the business and fortune of her family, Edda had limited power at home, the word of her father presiding over all business and household conduct. She was allowed a degree of selfishness, but anything going against Eamon’s word was a futile venture. It was his name on the gil, and that was where power lie, a lesson Edda had been remiss in remembering. Edda excused herself from the table and made her way to the South Wing of the manor, where her room was. As she passed through the main hall and into the second parlor, she stopped at seeing Ennis descend the staircase at the beginning of the wing. “Finished breakfast already, have we?” Ennis approached Edda quickly, her usual fake smile plastered on her face. Ennis was Edda’s younger sister by two cycles. Born premature, Ennis was a weak and unhealthy girl, although her attitude and mannerisms more than made up for her inherent frailty. She was smaller than Edda in every regard and looked more like their father between the two, with short hair and sharp eyes that never seemed to focus on one thing for very long. “So it would seem,” Edda replied. Every social interaction was a game to Ennis, having been deprived of it even more than Edda had been growing up. It was always a mystery what goal Ennis would have when speaking with Edda, and she was careful enough to never reveal her hand. Talking to her was a chore. Still, Edda smiled at Ennis as she came to stand in front of her. “And I imagine you have as well?” “Oh, yes,” Ennis said. “Dreadful, really. I keep telling father how tired I’ve grown of fish for breakfast. Healthy or not, a little bit of variety never hurt anyone. Would you not agree, dear sister?” Edda had barely opened her mouth before Ennis continued on. “Perhaps I’ve been playing the wrong angle. Do you think mother would agree with me? She has more control over the kitchen stock than anyone here, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a change in the menu. But she’s off to Gridania now, to bury the corpse of our dearly departed Aunt Meera. Pity. In any case, how are you? You’ve been home for nearly what, eight suns now? And yet it seems we’ve hardly seen each other except at dinner, and you know father won’t let me say much at the table. Will you not call on me?” For a girl with chronically weak lungs, Ennis had a talent for prattling on about nothing for bells on end. Edda knew better than to dig much at the earlier parts of her spiel. “I’m sorry, Ennis,” Edda said, not at all meaning it. “I’ve been keeping to myself. I do like some space to collect my thoughts.” Ennis scoffed and made a face. She was very expressive, although how much of it was an act, Edda did not know. “You’ve had time alone to collect your thoughts for almost twenty cycles now. Don’t tell me your pretend adventure with the rabble outside has jumbled your mind so terribly.” Edda made sure to not show reaction to Ennis’ apparent bait, but she could feel tenseness in her own jaw before she spoke. “It would be difficult to explain.” Vagueness was the fastest route to annoying Ennis, although Edda had no desire to quarrel with her. “You were not gone for that long. It wouldn’t be very difficult, I just think you don’t want to tell me about it at all. At least father gave me some measure of an idea. An incident with bird-like fellows and your subsequent adventures with your pet Hellsguard, yes?” “That is a rather concise way of putting it.” “Let’s not sweat the details, dearest. I can imagine hearing everything would bore me straight to tears. You’re not that interesting, although you’ve seemed to pick up a few quirks from life in the gutter.” Edda had to wonder if Ennis truly saw things in such extremes. If it wasn’t the lavish and clean interior of a manor, was everything else the dirty, shady alleyways of Pearl Lane? There was little point in asking, because Ennis would deny it, or not answer at all. She was intelligent with both books and people, but her views of the world were painted with a thin sheen of ignorance. The same, of course, could be said about Edda, despite her desire to shed this fact. “I have, perhaps,” Edda agreed in an attempt to pacify her. “You seem largely the same since last we spoke, however. Are you still terrorizing the gardeners?” Ennis wrinkles her nose at the accusation. “Don’t be silly. Father hired a whole new batch of them from that little colony to the south, but I’m sure those unruly ex-pirates only have experience trimming heads from necks, not the branches off bushes. I tried only once to give them constructive criticism-“ Edda could feel pangs of sympathy. “-But to little avail. I’ve bothered father to hire some field hands from Gridania instead – no doubt they’ll set things to rights. He won’t listen now, but I’ll wear him down eventually.” “I’m sure you will…” It was Ennis’ greatest talent, after all. “You never go to the gardens though, so why let it bother you so much?” “I can see them from my window,” Ennis replied, as if it were the most obvious answer. “Don’t try and say I’m out of my element, because you know full well I could say the very same to you. Living in a house full of killers, drunks and whores? I know mother planted the idea in your head, but could you have not picked a better location?” Edda blinked at the apparent types of people living at The Still Shore, if that was indeed what Ennis was referring to. “I don’t recall ever encountering those types while I stayed there. Perhaps you are mistaken.” “Oh, yes, I’m sure the official Maelstrom record for them is very flattering. But I did my research when father had those officers over for dinner one moon past, and from what I’ve heard some rather colorful types live under that roof. I know you had two of your retainers with you, and your Hellsguard, but I was truly worried for your well-being there.” The conversation had begun to wear on Edda at this point, her expression sobering at Ennis’ thinly-veiled accusations, though they were not directed at her. It was true that Edda had always been quite the odd one out, but she had never felt outright unwanted, let alone unsafe. “They must have been some rather embellished stories, then. I can assure you nothing was out of sorts there.” This was of course, entirely false. There never seemed to be a shortage of incidents or strange fellows skulking about the house, from the dusty miqo’te that spoke in riddles to the ever aggravating three-eyed freak. “Or are you simply curious, Ennis? If you want to know so badly, all you had to do was ask.” “Ridiculous. Curious? Me?” Ennis scowled and clicked her tongue. “You must think yourself above me even more so now, now that you’ve been outside – as if that was some great accomplishment to begin with. Do you intend to lord it over me? Try and regale me with tales of what I’m missing?” It was no secret that Ennis harbored immense disdain for the outdoors, a trait in which Edda played no small part. Having been confined to the house due to her health for most of her life, Ennis grew to despise the very thought of going outside. She had not always felt this way, and perhaps forced herself to in order to bury the self-pity she had for her own situation. It was not something Edda could hold against her, knowing that she herself could have ended up with the very same attitude. “I have no intention to do any of that, Ennis. I do not regret my decision to leave, however, and I’m glad I did. It was a good experience.” Ennis went from looking annoyed to placid very quickly. “What a lukewarm thing to say. So have you resigned yourself to your fate here now? You seem very passive.” Edda looked to the ground for a moment, and frowned. “…I would still like to leave,” she begins. “I will hope that father can see past his own anger and prejudices and change his mind.” It was not an easy thing to admit, nor something she would like to, but lying to Ennis was futile. “He’s forbidden you from sending any letters, has he not? At least I heard a few retainers whispering about it. Rather iron-fisted of him, no? But you know how stubborn he is – I doubt he’ll change his mind. So what, you intend to just sit around the house long enough, hoping your fairytale friends notice and seek you out?” Edda’s frown deepened at this. ‘Friends’ was not a word Edda was sure she could use. If she were prompted she may say as such, but having lived in isolation for much of her life, the word carried a different weight to her than it did to the average person. She had acted in a manner that was friendly, at least how she had been taught to do so. But that was never enough, and for all she knew, she had gone about it all wrong. It would be presumptuous of Edda to believe anyone would seek her out, even if the notion of it made her heart sink in longing. She thought of Iron, and those that she might dare to think would call her a friend, and felt like crying. “…I hope that this is something that will be resolved, given time.” Edda choose her words carefully and looked Ennis dead in the eye. There was a pregnant pause in the conversation, a rarity with Ennis. Her eyes darted around the room for a moment, before she settled at staring between Edda’s collarbones. “You are so horribly boring sometimes.” She looked up at Edda almost cautiously, before her usual smile appeared on her face. “Exactly as I expected. I’m sure you like to think differently, but you are still the selfsame sister I know and love. You can still read and write unlike the unwashed masses, your hair is still impeccable and your breasts are still distracting. Can you still play? Oh, you must play with me sister, it’s been too long.” Ennis motioned to the instruments in the room, the largest collection of them in the second parlor. There was a piano, a harpsichord, a harp, a cello, and two violins alongside an assortment of flutes in a large closet in the corner. There was scarcely room for any furniture, and the room had fallen into disuse after a third harpsichord was lifted to the study near Ennis’ room and Edda had completed her lessons. Still, the room was kept in impeccable shape and the instruments were well cared for. Ennis walked over to the harpsichord excitedly and pointed at the piano, looking between it and Edda with pretend vigor. “I don’t,” Edda started. “I’m not really in the mood.” Ennis was already sitting at this point, and gave Edda a rather befuddled look. “Who said anything about the mood? It’s only music.” As if anyone could argue with that. Edda sighed and took a seat in front of the piano. She lifted the fallboard and looked over to Ennis. The two only knew one duet. Ennis had not desired to learn more than one, her passion for music not falling beyond the realm of putting on a show for guests. She had always been talented at the keyboard, but it was Edda’s initial love for music that caused Ennis not care for it as deeply as she might have. She still practiced the bare minimum, but it was just another game for her. Ennis met Edda’s gaze and winked – or at least attempted to – and turned back to the keys in front of her. Edda rolled her eyes, and started to play. HOCQjR3gXDY Ennis finished the duet with a flourish, before clapping wildly. “Oh, excellent, you’re just as good as I remember!” She continued clapping, to the point where it felt patronizing. Edda stood and lowered the fallboard back over the keys. Ennis rose to meet her, and took Edda’s hands in her own. “Shall we have some tea and cakes on the back veranda?” That was as far as Ennis was willing to go outside. “I’m still feeling a bit peckish after such a boring breakfast. I feel as if we have a lot to catch up on, you and I.” If she meant it, it would be quite the difference from her previous words. “Alright,” Edda agreed. She had no excuse prepared, and spending time with Ennis for the next few bells would prepare her for dinner with the Sidneys. Ennis smiled brightly, and for a second Edda felt like smiling back. Edda had not seen a real smile on Ennis’ face for a very long time, even before the Calamity. The moment passed, and Edda allowed Ennis to drag her to the garden nestled between the two wings of the house. (To be... Continued?) :chocobo:

There are a million generic opening songs that I could have conjured up, but instead of something boring and predictable (much like Edda herself), have a song that details what it's like living on Edda's hard-to-come-by bad side. q2qBEsYtP04

Edda Eglantine: let's go fuck up Franz's room Iron Sea: Eat his furtniture Edda Eglantine: yeah Edda Eglantine: track some mud in Iron Sea: Omn nom nom nom You have entered a sanctuary. Edda Eglantine: none of his furniture matches Iron Sea: IT's sad, and he should be sad Edda Eglantine: lol Edda Eglantine: agree Edda Eglantine: but we can't all be interior designers like me Iron Sea: True, you'd think with Three fucking eyes one of them would be for detail Edda Eglantine: LOL

Once again, Titan The dragoon dodges landslide Takes the tank instead My MP is low My keyboard has been misplaced Bard, please notice me YoshiP's haiku Is not really a haiku Please look forward to it.

Hey guys, it's me with Ehla and Jancis, and we're here to teach you plebs about the fashion statement that is the half robe + tights combo! ...Or at least we were, until we got into those brownies someone left out...

http://i.imgur.com/PFnQ7Fn.jpg[/img]