Talathar Khalynn

Among gamers, Roleplayers are sometimes considered the geekiest of the geeks. It's not that we've actually done anything extraordinarily horrendous to earn ourselves the ridicule and mockery of our fellow gamers or anything. We just don't play the game the same way they do, so it's easy for them to point fingers and say, "Hey, they're weird!" and try to act like big bad bullies on the virtual playground. Who knows why they do it, really. Maybe they don't understand the whole idea of roleplaying. Maybe they think roleplayers are using the game as a venue for cyber. Maybe they had a bad previous encounter with a roleplayer (or pretend roleplayer) in the past. Maybe they were picked on by jocks in school, and have decided that they'd punish roleplayers in revenge. Maybe they're just jerks. Again, who know? And more to the point, who cares? I don't pay the trolls any mind, really. I used to roleplay a tarutaru in Final Fantasy XI, back before there was any real organization for roleplay, and people pretty much put up with it (back then, a good WHM was worth putting up with eccentric behavior). I don't mind explaining the idea of roleplaying to others who are curious, but for those trying to be arses, I will usually just add them to my blacklist and go on with my day. If they still persist in being a pain, I will send them a /tell asking them to please stop their harassment, a complaint will be sent if they continue, and I will follow through with the complaint. And then I go back to ignoring them. I roleplay openly in /say, with emotes and gestures and everything else. If it makes sense to move to a quieter location, I can do that - but usually only if it makes sense to the roleplay moment, or if the chatter is too much. I tend to concentrate on the text while roleplaying anyway, so people jumping around like poo-flinging monkeys on tables or trying to cast area of affect magics (I have the graphics for non-party turned off) don't even get more than a blink, really. I refuse to be bothered by petty, small-minded jerks who have nothing better to do than to try to make others as miserable as they are on the inside.

Welcome Mistaru Gobbie-san! As others have said, the two unofficial RP servers are Balmung and Gilgamesh. Both servers have strong/growing RP communities, and I think it's fair to say you could probably find a happy home on either one. Balmung is one of the Legacy servers, while Gilgamesh is one of the "new" servers that started up with the relaunch, but new roleplayers are welcome to either one. To start, you can check out the Linkshell Hall for a listing of Linkshells and Free Companies that have registered with the Role Players Coalition group. There are also Player Directories for both Balmung and Gilgamesh. I know that on Gilgamesh, we have a Coalition OOC LS. Several folks who post here have invite powers, or know someone who can extend an invitation. I'm pretty sure they have something similar on Balmung, but you would need to confirm that with an actual Balmungian resident. There's also a wiki of character profiles and descriptions, if you feel like finding out more about particular characters you encounter once you start playing. Where ever ya go, and whichever ya choose, welcome to the group! Have fun out there! Oh, and ... Hey! We smells like goodness and cuteness and moogles and all good things! ...except, maybe, parts of Limsa, which probably smells like any port town housing former pirates - old booze and dead fishies and really bad hangover breath. But you guys have a Limsa too, so -bleh-!

Level/Inexperienced comment comes from here: If you're looking to help build up more roleplay on Gilgamesh through in-game organizations and establishments, I'm sure you could find others willing help. But someone has to have the vision. Someone has to have an idea of how they want an organization to go, and what role it should play. And honestly, the best way to effect change is to BE the agent of that change. You mentioned in-game organizations, like the knight's order you helped to form in another game. Is that something you want to emulate here? Maybe there are some folks who would like to join something like that. Would it be a Free Company type of ogranization? Or something with a looser organization? Would you limit membership to Paladin and Warrior types, or would you have members from other class/jobs also? Maybe you can post a few ideas for forming such a group, and see who joins in the discussion. Or for character-run taverns or shops -- what type of shops were you thinking of? Just your run-of-the-mill tavern? High class restaurant? Trinkets and baubles? Or were you thinking some kind of weekly/monthly open market kind of thing? Give us some solid ideas, and see if there's interest in those ideas. Also, I apologize if I seem kind of confrontational. I don't mean to be, but I admit I tend to get defensive with posts calling on others to "do something" about roleplay. It was a phrase I heard a lot of in World of Warcraft. In the early days of the game, the roleplayers on the server I played on built up a community together. Guilds of like-minded characters banded together, formed alliances and rivalries, forged friendships and relationships, fell prey to pettiness and hatred, and all the good things that come with roleplay. We had one encompassing storyline, started by one man preaching peace, which grew to involve the major roleplayers on both sides of the field teaming up together against a common foe, in a massive RP battle that was staged on IRC and I believe took 3 nights to play out. But time passed, and people changed. Some RPers found themselves with less time to play, or became more interested in raid progression, or lost interest in the game. More non-roleplayers joined the server as well, changing the landscape in a sense. And a lot of roleplayers started lamenting the "death of roleplay" on the server. But one thing I did notice is that those who complained the most about roleplay being dead on the server were the ones sitting back and waiting for the roleplay to come to them. Or critiqued the events that others put together, never putting in the effort themselves. The thing is, roleplay didn't "die" on the server. It was still there, everyday, all around. It still IS there, even now -- I have friends who are active and unapologetic roleplayers there still today. Roleplay is there for them, because they make the roleplay happen. They organize events, have weekly gatherings at pubs or "story circles" out on the plains. They have yearly galas, where everyone on the server is invited. They write story posts of their adventures, or of events that happened in game, or even behind-the-scenes stuff that their characters' lives that no one in-game sees. Heck a group of players set up (and maintain) a social media-type community just for our old server, just so players can keep in touch and share their stories. Roleplay is what you make of it. Take care, and have fun. EDIT: I'm not trying to discourage discussion, or discourage the promotion of new organizations and events. I'm more objecting to a passive tone I'm inferring, which may be just me, and not intended. Change is possible, and can be good. But I still believe that to make a change, you have to drive it, not sit back and let someone else do the work.

Hi, I'm Tala, and I'm a roleplayer. I've been a roleplayer, in various forms, for more than half my life (about 25 years or so now, I think). So yes, I'm old, and perhaps have a little bit of an old fogy's perspective. Part of the "stigma" I think does come from those who only want to "roleplay" solely in order to exchange illicit messages with another human being for the purposes of sexual stimulation and gratification. I think the label "cybering" does fit better for this kind of thing, rather than ERP. There's also a bit of defensiveness for some RPers, who have had to explain to the average gamer what exactly roleplaying means in an MMORPG, and why anyone would bother doing that in a game anyway, aren't there chat rooms for that kind of thing? *sighs at remembered frustration* Anyway... For me personally, I don't ERP, because I prefer not to. Not in my comfort zone. But I also have no problem with those who do ERP in game. I don't judge -- to each their own. And as a writer, I understand that grown-up characters will have grown-up relationships, and there will be grown-up activities that they may engage in. And so long as there are consenting grown-ups on both sides of the screen engaging in these private exchanges, I have no problem with it. I do, however, have a problem with people purposely engaging in sexual "acts" in public, be it with in-game emotes, text emotes, or /say. There are minors playing the game, and they don't need to be exposed to that. Heck, *I* don't need to see it, either. PG-13 in public, please. You wanna go NC-17, please take it to a private venue. Much thanks. (Occasional mistells, however -- those are just entertaining. :PP)

Discussion is good. Dialogue is good. Sharing thoughts and ideas is good. While I understand your feelings, in my humble opinion, character level or inexperience does not dictate your ability to shape the RP community to be what you want. You can be level 5 and still have a positive effect on the RP scene. And although I admit that not all Gilgameshers (...is that a word...?) Are the most active posters on this forum, that doesn't necessarily mean all of us RPers have jumped ship! Everyone who contributes to the RP scene in any way helps build the RP community. But not everyone contributes the same way, and not everyone necessarily wants to build the community in the same way. Viewpoints differ, and that’s okay! We’re all different, and while our ideas may clash a bit, I think we can all agree that more RP overall is a good direction to go. Big events that involve a lot of people are usually a lot of fun, but they also always require a lot of work to set up and prepare for. There’s planning involved, volunteers needed to get the word out, volunteers to help organize, volunteers to keep people engaged and orderly during the event. Even when things don’t seem to involve a lot of work on the surface, the organizers behind the scenes have put in their time to make sure everything runs smoothly. Even smaller events can take time to organize and run. It’s like tabletop RP -- for most players, you just have to show up with your characters sheets and dice (and maybe some snacks and soda), and you can have a good time. For the Game Masters (or Dungeon Masters) -- they probably spent at least a few hours (or days) thinking up plotlines, planning encounters, preparing maps, and all sorts of other nefarious things for the players to encounter. It’s fun for all involved (usually, anyway), but even so, it’s a lot of preparation. The wonderful thing about RPing in an MMORPG is that each of us has the ability to take charge, and make RP happen. Big RP events are fun, but smaller RP encounters can be fun as well. A lot of us intentionally will RP in /say in public places BECAUSE we want other RPers to become involved. A lot of RPers have the tag “Roleplayer” in their /search info, so we can be identified by other RPers. And if a group of RPers seem to be having some serious RP going on, and you’re not sure if you can join in, you can always send one of them a /tell to OOC’ly ask if it’s okay for you to take part. Often you will be invited in and welcomed -- it never hurts to ask! In short, I think everyone wants to have a stronger community on the server. But the question is, are we all willing to put in the effort to MAKE the community stronger? Because waiting for the RP to come to you isn't going to help improve the situation any. Taking action will. Just one small lala's little opinion. Your mileage may vary. Have fun out there, folks.

The sun shone brightly over the seaside city of Limsa Lominsa. The seas were calm, and the breeze, gentle. Despite the everyday hustle and bustle that is the norm for any busy port town, even the most harried citizen could find a brief moment to enjoy the clear, sunny day. In a quiet corner outside the Bismark, two sisters sat together, apparently sharing a light meal and somber conversation. Physically, they did not resemble each other at all; the elder was a tall Roegadyn woman of ruddy complexion, while the younger was a blue-haired Keeper still clearly in her teens. Yet both had fierce, golden eyes -- currently, filled with ire. “Kori…” “No, ‘Ris,” the Roegadyn rebuffed flatly, sitting back and crossing her arms. M’yrissa huffed. “We need to know, Kori!” “No, ‘Ris. You do not. The past was taken from her. Let it remain so. It is better that way.” “Better for who?” M’yr hissed back, trying to keep her voice down. “It’s Tala’s life, Kori. You know she’s never wanted anything else but being a conjurer. A healer. It would destroy her to lose that!” Kori glowered. “And if you do this? You were not so young. Do not forget the girl that was before. The one who did remember.” She waved a dismissive hand. “It would hurt her, regardless.” “You don’t know that for sure! Brother E-Sumi-Yan said...” “Six years ago, he said to leave be, ‘Ris! That the Elements took her sorrow. That it was best to let it be, and let her know happiness. And we did! And she did!” “She’s remembering now, Kori! But only in bits and pieces, in her dreams. She’s told me about the parts that she can recall. She can’t sleep because of them! Those memories are already hurting her -- keeping the truth to yourself isn’t helping her at all!” “It would be better should she never remember!” growled Kori darkly. “Help her to forget, that I would aid. But help her to remember? No. That pain is too great.” “You can’t know that!” M’yrissa protested. “No, YOU do not know, M’yrissa Tahl! You have not lived through such troubles -- and for that the Twelve be praised! You cannot know what such memories do. I speak a truth you cannot know.” Korynna’s chair toppled to the ground as she hastily stood to lean forward over the table, glaring fiercely into her youngest sister’s eyes. The Roegadyn’s golden eyes flashed, equal parts of impassioned anger and remembered pain. “I would give my left arm for such forgetfulness.” The young Miqo’te blinked, stunned for a moment. She watched helplessly as Kori dropped a handful of gil on the table and stalked away.

When Tala woke in an unfamiliar room, surrounded by warmth not her own, she surprisingly did not panic, and did not struggle. Instead, she only sighed in resignation. Her memories of the day before were a bit disjointed and vague in places, but she distinctly remembered a few key points. Tala remembered spending most of the day wandering the fields in Summerford, helping the pirate-turned-farmers with their crops, learning more about tending to the green, growing things of the earth. She remembered returning to Limsa Lominsa, seeking a bit of food and maybe a little quiet reflection. She remembered bumping into Loxus, and speaking with the young Miqo’te, sharing a light meal and friendly conversation. Conversation that turned more serious after a time. She remembered admitting the exhaustion, and the sleepless nights. But when Loxus started suggesting ways to combat the inability to sleep, something happened. Something new. What, exactly, she couldn’t completely remember. There were blank spaces in her memory. Loxus had told her she had, at least twice, become panicked, muttering gibberish, oblivious to her surroundings, until jolted back to herself. She remembered sitting with Loxus inside the Drowning Wench, then… they were outside, sitting with Sierra. She didn’t remember shouting, or ranting. She only had only dim, vague feelings of fading out, almost as if she had fallen asleep for those moments. She did remember, however, basically falling asleep on Loxus. And being carried to the inn -- to this room, in fact. And mumbling some joking reference to a harem, and how she wasn’t interested. Then nothing. Just blissful, peaceful silence. Until now. She also remembered promising to talk to Solya about everything. Something she’d neglected to do. Again. She winced slightly, anticipating a scolding, which she probably deserved. Twelve knew she’d been scolded by M’yr enough times about it -- at least, until very recently. After the talk with Master E-Sumi-Yan, M’yr had seemed distracted. Maybe even avoiding her. Tala knew that there was something her sister and the guildmaster were not sharing. She also knew that M’yr had been discussing things with Kori, their eldest sister, and that they were not in agreement about something. Something that she strongly suspected had to do with her current troubles. But they weren’t talking to her about it. For all that she was used to being treated as the “baby” of the family, it still irked her sometimes. But then, deep down, she also knew that when she was ill, she wasn’t the most rational person. Even so, it irked her. Suddenly, the arms around her seem constricting. Confining. She fought down a surge of irrational panic, concentrating on her breathing. Slowly, carefully, she untangled herself, and moved off the bed, making for the safety of the door. She needed air. Needed to feel the wind in her hair, the sun on her face, to know that she was … she was … “...’M not okay,” Tala muttered quietly to herself, as the door closed behind her. If anyone saw her stumble out, or heard her, she didn’t know.

She couldn’t sleep. Hadn’t slept. No more than an odd hour or two each night, for the past week. Or more, maybe. She wasn’t even sure anymore. They came for her. Every time she closed her eyes. Every time she drifted off. Every time she tried to rest. The nightmares. She couldn’t always remember them. And even when she could, it was only bits and pieces. Jumbled, disjointed images, scrambled together in her mind in a chaotic amalgamation of sights, sounds, and overriding emotion. Fragments. Fragments. So many fragments. Of hands, at her throat. Stealing away her air. Holding her down. Of fire, searing her back in stripes. Of tears, hopelessly shed. A throat burned raw by useless sobs. Loneliness. Hopelessness. Despair. And fear. Always fear. Every night she woke up gasping, her heart pounding, and fear clawing at her soul. And in the darkness, with the walls seemingly closing in, she would sneak outside -- sometimes to the stables -- to find some small solace in the gentle breeze. It was taking its toll. _____ “You shouldn’t be out here,” the Miqo’te said seriously, arms crossed, almost glaring at the diminutive figure seated before her, leaning against a tree. “You’re supposed to be at the farm, resting.” “Too noisey,” the small lalafell replied shortly, frowning blearily at the horizon. “Too stuffy. Wanted ta be out.” “You don’t need to ‘be out,’ Tala,” retorted the Miqo’te, tail flitting about in obvious annoyance. “You need to be resting. Inside. Not out here in the wind. Especially when it looks like rain. Really, what are you thinking?” “Lemme ‘lone, M’yr.” The tail lashed out angrily. “No, Tala, I will not ‘leave you alone.’ You are sick, you are not getting better…” “I AM gettin better,” Tala protested. “ ‘M not fevered anymore…” “Yes, but now apparently you are not sleeping.” M’yr took a deep breath and calmed her voice. “Tala, is it the nightmares?” A wordless nod was the only reply. M’yr sighed, pushing her hair back with both hands. She still remembered how, when they had both been younger, Tala had been tormented by nightmares. Every night she’d wake up sweating, gasping for air, or screaming in fear. For years, her sister had suffered nightly. Until the day of the accident, six years ago. Until the day Tatala had become Talathar. After the accident, everything changed. Her sister had changed -- her name, her personality, and most especially her memories. Three years worth of memories, altered. Some memories jumbled up, other memories stolen away completely, all by the rush of water that had almost drowned them both. Almost as if the past itself had been washed away. But something of that past remained. The nightmares. For a time, they persisted. At least, for a little while. But as time passed, so did the nightmares. But sometimes, she knew Tala was still troubled by them. “Tala, you should talk to Brother E-Sumi-Yan about the nightmares.” “... ‘m fine…” “Talathar Khalynn Tahl, you are being ridiculous! Now, I’m going to talk to that doctor friend of yours, and then I am taking you to the Conjurer’s guild. And then we will be talking to Brother E-Sumi-Yan, and you will tell him everything about the fevers and the nightmares. And you will cooperate, or I will get Kori on the linkshell, and we will physically drag you there. AFTER Kori lectures you.” Tala winced. And then after that, I will be writing another letter, she thought to herself grimly. Because you are obviously being stubborn again.

All around her. Engulfing. Surrounding. Tumbling uncontrollably in empty space. But not empty, not exactly. There was a sense of something. Something ephemeral. Something in that space, rushing past her. Through her, even. Like a cold embrace of something ... other. She was carried along in the wake of that other force, present all around her, taking her where it willed. Uncontrolled... And then her breathe wouldn't come. Panic. Terror. She lashed out against it, flailing. But her limbs could find no purchase. There was nothing there to grab, to grapple, or to hold on to. Over and over she tumbled, struggling for air, gasping, but there was no air at all. Only... Her head smashed into something solid. A flash of pain, then darkness. _____ She woke up terrified; her head aching, her mind disoriented. For a moment of panic, she did not remember where she was, knowing only the throbbing pain and unfamiliar surroundings. Voices, muffled. Familiar voices. She blinked for a moment, then realized it was her link pearl, laying forgotten on the nightstand. She smiled tiredly and took the small sphere into her hand, just listening to her friends speaking to each other. She remembered now. Closing her eyes for a moment against the pain, she wondered what time it was. It was dark out, she noted absently, so it must be some time in the night. She lay there, musing, as the vague fragments of her familiar nightmare chased themselves into oblivion. Suddenly the room felt too hot to her. The space seemed too confining. The four walls, stifling. She needed out. She needed out, now. In the morning she was found fast asleep, bundled in a blanket and leaning on the post of the front stoop; link pearl still clutched tightly in her hand.

It had been a bad idea. She had known that from the start. Who saddled a chocobo and went for a ride when they were ill? Fevered? As a healer, she knew better. She would never let someone under her care do such a thing. But the selfish, childish part of her overrode the sensible, healer part, and so she had clung to the choco tightly as the bird carefully made his way along the roads. Stalwart seemed to know what she wanted. As before, there was no excited hopping, no challenging other chocobos to impromptu races alongside the roads. Instead, he kept his pace even and slow, ignoring the tall walls and outcroppings he would normally clamber atop. His gait was so smooth, she even found herself dozing off from time to time. Or maybe that was just the sickness, making her tired. Still, she had been mildly surprised when she realized her choco had carried her all the way to Gridania. In a mild daze, she handed the reins over to the chocokeep, and asked him to take good care of her Stal, because he was probably tired after the long journey. The man had smiled good-naturedly and take the bird to the stables, after a bit of a struggle -- Stal seemed reluctant to leave her side, but she patted him affectionately and told him to go rest. Her hand had still been hurting. She would have gone to visit her mother, but did not relish the scolding she was due. Instead, she had made her way to the normally peaceful waterfall, thinking to rest there beside the water. Maybe dunk her hand in the pool, to soothe the burn. Only to bump into Zanana. And of course Zanana was upset -- the last she’d known, Tala had been resting on the farmstead in La Noscea. Just that morning, in fact. What was she doing in Gridania? Why wasn’t she resting? How did she get that burn on her hand? And as if that weren’t bad enough, in the middle of the scolding by Zanana, Solya had appeared as well. Who also noticed the burn, and knew it wasn’t an ordinary burn. She’d dozed off here and there while Zanana explained to Solya. She didn’t mean to -- but she was so tired. And in her fevered misery, she had admitted her fears of losing her healing skills. It terrified her, that she might lose the one thing she had always wanted, and had always striven for. In fitful tears, she dozed off again.

“Stal.” The little chocobo looked up at the soft voice, and cried out happily. “KWEH!” He rushed to her side, but then slowed as he came nearer. Gently, slowly, he pushed his head into her, nuzzling her face softly. She had come back, his little master. He was glad. But still, something was still not right. She felt too hot. Her eyes were watery. Not bright. She was not steady. She trembled. And he had understood. Sickness. She was sick. Instinct had told him to run away, but he would not. He could not protect her from sickness. But still he would not run. Instead, he stayed close. As close as the other small one would allow. He would not allow the chocobo into the building, so Stalwart could not cuddle his little master close as she slept. But he offered her what support he could. “Kwoo,” he called softly, comfortingly, gently butting his head against his little master’s chest. She chuckled softly at his antics and smoothed his crest feathers soothingly. “ ‘M alright, Stal,” she told him quietly. “Just tired.” He did not understand the words, but cooed in response to them. “No, really. ‘M fine. Just… wanted ta feel the wind. ‘S stuffy inside.” Her voice wavered just a bit. It was not good. Concerned, he pulled back just a little, gently grooming her the soft not-feathers on her head with his beak. She batted at him weakly. “Hey, stop. ‘M not needin choco drool in my hair,” she whined, closing her eyes against a wave of dizziness. Sensing it, the chocobo dropped to the ground, using his body to steady her, so that she did not fall. “Oh…” Sickness. She was sick. He knew. She needed to sleep. To rest, and be cared for, to get better. She was too hot. It was cold for her outside, she needed shelter. He looked around, but no one was there. Gently, carefully, he urged her towards the door to the house, but she refused to go. “No, ‘s stuffy.” Unable to fight, she eventually settled against the door frame, sitting on the wooden floor of the stoop. Carefully, he settled around her, trying to shield her from the wind. She clutched at him, and sobbed weakly, and water fell weakly from her eyes. She was hot, too hot, and it was not comfortable for him. But he would endure it, for her. As she fell asleep, she muttered under her breath. “...home… wanna go… home…” Home. He knew that word. Home was not here. Here was a place with the ocean smell everywhere. Fish and farms, and people with books. Home was different. Home smelled of trees, and shady plants. Home was far from here. But he thought he knew how to get there. He looked down at his little sleeping master, clutching at him. Determination stirred in his heart. Home. She wanted home. If she wanted home, then he would take her home. But first, she needed rest. He watched her sleep. And waited for her to wake up.

((I was trying to get into the mindset of a sick lalafell, and this bit of angst got typed up. Honestly, I'm not quite sure where I'm taking this yet - this whole thing started out as a quick little throw-away thing, but is developing into some kind of RP story arc. We'll see where it goes - just please, anyone who knows Tala IC'ly, this tidbit is not public knowledge, and she hasn't told many about how sick she is.)) EDIT: Changing to Semi-Closed RP / Story type posting. If anyone is interested in getting involved with this little storyline (either in-game or on the boards here), please let me know. I will be occasionally adding bits and pieces (from either Tala or possibly other alt views) here. ; _____ In the secluded room, there was a sudden flare of fire. A startled squeak of fright. The sudden splashing sounds of water. Then the distinct thump of a small body falling to the wooden floor, and a soft, defeated sigh. Alone in the room, a small figure sat on the floor against the bed. She cradled one hand against the her chest, struggling to hold back useless tears. Not at the pain of the burn itself, but at sheer frustration. And a little fear. She was so, so tired of being sick. And afraid of what the sickness might be doing to her. An aetheric imbalance, is what Jujunia had called it. Something was interfering with her aetheric flows, wreaking havoc with her abilities, and her control. A “clog of aether” of some sort. Although the tincture her mother continued to send was helping, she didn’t seem to be getting any better. She still had the fevers, especially at night. And the headaches. The occasional queasiness, although that was a little better with the teas they’d been brewing for her of late. But the aetheric imbalance persisted, they’d said. And today, just now, she’d seen for herself how much her control had lapsed. Fire. She’d only attempted to summon a little bit - a tiny lick of flame, just enough to light a small candle. Instead… instead she’d gotten a large ball of angry fire, that and threatened to expand and engulf not only the candle, but the nightstand it rested on as well. Luckily, water still seemed to answer her call, and the fire was out before it had really even started. Although the candle AND the candle holder had melted beyond recognition, and there was a lot of water she needed to mop up. And the burns on her hand stung. She wasn’t even sure she should attempt healing it, at this point. She didn’t know what she’d do if the healing didn’t come. Healing was her gift, her special thing. What would she do if she lost it - forever? Unbidden, unnoticed, the tears fell down her cheeks. In the solitary room, she succumbed at last to the fear, and sobbed, alone, clutching her throbbing hand in the dimming light.

Not to nitpick, but Stone also causes Heavy, slowing the target's movement. Stone II does not. If you think Benediction is bad in FFXIV, ya should have seen the FFXI version. That was a real panic button, that put the WHM at the top of the aggro list, and almost always spelled certain doom, in exchange for healing everyone else. Basically my Benediction macro was this: "I'm casting Benediction, please don't let me die..." I'm not the greatest healer in the world, but I try. I can't comment on end-game stuff, because I haven't even been able to finish the storyline quests yet (yes, I'm slow, no I have no regrets, although I'm lamenting the loss of my Swiftcast + Stoneskin macro for tanking, as my PLD can't use it, but that's 'nother topic...). I enjoy healing, but it's isn't for everyone, AND sometimes the game mechanics don't agree with how you as a player think about healing. To each their own. I, for one, HATED trying to level a healer in WoW. Absolutely hated it, at least until Monk healing came out, which was the only reason I got back into the game at all. Friends of mine loved healing in WoW pre-Panda-land, but I never could get into it. So I tanked instead. Well, actually in the beginning Pallies weren't exactly tanks, but still, that's what I played. And, as gimped out as prot Pallies were back in the early days, I still enjoyed it. Fun is subjective. Do what you find fun. If the game mechanics for healing don't lead to a happy experience for you, that's okay. Maybe try something new, see if some other role is more fun for ya. Maybe SE will make changes to how healing works. Maybe they won't. But in the meantime, hopefully you'll find something in the game that lets you have fun.

Character Profile for Talathar Khalynn

I play on Gilgamesh, and my characters are all good-aligned. I'm not a "heavy" RP'er - I don't game just to RP. I RP to enhance my gaming experience. I'm not really one to initiate big storylines myself, that are acted out in-game. It's not my cup of tea. Don't get me wrong, I applaud those who do create elaborate story arcs with their characters. It's fun to take part in all that. As to the questions on hand... What is the hesitation with playing a criminal mind, or any "baddy" for that matter? Honestly? I've tried RPing outright evil characters - I can do it for maybe half an hour, but after that it makes my head hurt. Literally. Every time I try. RPing evil for a couple hours and then having to lay down with a major headache for the rest of the evening is not fun for me, and I'd really rather just avoid it. Outright evil is just too diametrically opposed to my personal mindset. I have to force myself into the role, and it's not one I enjoy. With writing, it's different, because in my mind there is a filter - you're making the other guy do bad stuffs, it's not you. But for me, RPing is more like acting, not writing. And because I tend to identify with my characters, that filter is not there, making it harder for me to be able to separate myself from what my character is saying and doing. Thus the headaches. I don't begrudge those who can RP evil well. I'm kind of envious, really. I just can't do it myself. Are there any with characters like the one described in the second observation? If so what inspired you to go that route as opposed to the other? If I did have a "baddy" character per se, they would not consider themselves "bad" at all. There would be perfectly valid reasons for all their actions, even if they were detrimental to others. In their own minds, they would be "just normal folks," who sometimes to bad or mean things for survival, or for personal gain. It's just not something I really enjoy. It's too close to how real life plays out, for me. But, to each their own. Are there any with characters like the one described in the first observation? If so what inspired you to go that route as opposed to the other? Again, can't do outright evil. Headaches. Literally. Bad ones. Do you agree or disagree that there needs to be some sort of balance struck? For those who want epic storylines played out in-game, having a stock of villianous foes to play against would probably make things easier. Heck, even for non-epic storylines, it would make things easier. But I don't believe that any one should be pushed to RP something they don't want to. What you seem to be asking is for people to open their minds to the possibilities of RPing something different, and that's fine. Maybe a few people will decide to maybe try with a darker-toned character, and see where things take them. For me, sorry for my selfishness, but I'd rather avoid the splitting headaches. Have fun out there, peoples. And remember: fun RP should not make your head hurt.

Most of us on the FB page are friendly - honest!

Going to be completely honest here : I am not the best player in any MMORPG. In WoW, I did not have the patience to deal with people for prolonged raiding, my paladin did not PvP much (for RP reasons), and I didn't ever bother to strictly adhere to the "proper" ability rotations or stat builds. But then I hung out with folks who would do crazy stuff for fun, like challenge a dungeon using only 2 hunter pets for tanking. Because we played for fun, and we didn't care about "leet" gear or any of that stuff. Our group was a mix of many different types, from serious RPers to people who didn't RP much, hardcore raiders to stubborn anti-establishment rebels of the norm (like myself), and everything in between. But we all respected each other, helped each other, gave each other advice and encouragement, and did not judge each other for how we each decided to play the game. They were all great people, and I always felt priviledged to call them friends. My point? Whether in RP or just in-game, I don't feel elitist attitudes enhance my gameplay, and so I choose not to indulge. As my static party leader in FFXI used to say, I'd rather have a nice person who is a novice but plays well with others, than a leet geared ass who treats everyone like dirt. Your mileage may vary. Have fun in game, everyone.

I'm a simple soul. So my anime choices may seem simple. Or strange. *shrug* Spice and Wolf Gosick To Aru Kagaku no Railgun (1, S) To Aru Magical no Index (1, 2) Higurashi no Naku Koro Ni (have to watch both series, even though I watched with my hands half-covering my eyes, and I kinda felt the conclusion was a little rushed...) Durarara Sword Art Online Toradora Shakugan no Shana Kobato Papa no Iukoto Kikinasai ADD: oh! And Clannad, and Clannad After Story.

In my experience, RP elitism is the extreme opposite of RP-hating trolls. One believes that their style of RP is the highest upon high, and all should gaze upon it's wonder in awe, and fall upon our knees in reverence, and adhere to it's teachings and dwell evermore in it's glory. The other side thinks RPers are polluting the game and should GTFO. I choose to ignore both extremes. I accept neither worldview. There are many different styles of RP out there - some are more serious than others. Some are silly and downright nonsensical. And not every RPer can fit into every RP style. It's okay to excuse yourself and back away, if someone else's RP style doesn't fit your own - just try not to denigrate the other player (or players). Try not to tell them they are "doing it wrong," or that they need to "do it this way instead." You don't have to RP with everyone out there. But you also shouldn't sow disdain and contempt towards those who you aren't comfortable RPing with. Let everyone make their own decisions how they want to RP, and who they want to RP with. Respect that others are trying to enjoy RP in the game, even if their style doesn't match your own. Being and RPer isn't a "win or lose" kind of thing - it's a state of mind. Have fun out there, people.

Thanks - Glad you liked the story! I know it gets a little confusing at times, because none of the 2-legs have names. Originally I was going to grab the name of Gridania's Chocokeep, and a few other names from the game, to make it easier to identify. But this story isn't really about them, or about the Lalafell - it's about the chocobo, and his name really is the only one that matters. So I left it without the names - hopefully isn't not too confusing. Stalwart is Talathar's choco. My inspiration is when I first got the choco, and was riding around. I found myself constantly being an idiot, and hopping all over the place while riding around - hopping over other people, jumping onto rock formations, leaping from tall places, stuff like that. When I stepped back for a second and realized what I was doing all these inane things with my supposedly IC persona, I came up with the explanation that it was the choco's fault - *he* was the crazy one, not Tala. You should see her with a Carbuncle... >_>

He looked over the papers carefully, making sure everything was in order. After all, these were his birds, his pride and joy - trained for those recruits that the Order of the Twin Adders deemed had proven both their loyalty and battle prowess. He wouldn't let them go to just anyone. He was also a man who staunchly believed that each chocobo should be matched with the proper rider. So as he reviewed the paperwork, he took a moment to study the young woman standing before him, trying to size her up against the birds under his care. She was a tiny woman -- tiny even by lalafell standards -- with youthful enthusiasm shining brightly in her blue eyes. And something else, too. A quality that put him in mind of a particular bird. Fierce determination. He hid a grin behind his usual dour mask. ___ "Bloody hell... where is that pipsqueak?" the Hyur growled at the young Miqo'te woman, who politely rested the filled wheelbarrow on the ground for a moment. She was busy mucking out the stalls, but if the boss wanted to talk, she could use a short break. "New recruit needs a chocobo, and she's a shorty - we need to make sure he's trained and ready," he explained. "Of the shrimpy ones we got left -- where did all these shorties come from all of a sudden, anyway -- he's farthest along, but... where is he at?" The assistant chocokeep shrugged and pointed a thumb upwards, over her shoulder. The man wordlessly looked towards the top of the stable, and slapped a hand over his own face in exasperation. And tried not to laugh. "How in the..." His assistant merely shrugged again. "Dunno, boss. He just keeps getting up there, no matter what we try." He sighed. “At this rate, we’ll never have him ready.” “I dunno, boss,” she disagreed. “I mean, sure, he’s kinda crazy sometimes. Likes climbing stuff, and jumping ‘rround. But, you know, he’s pretty smart. And he doesn’t give up, for nuthin! And, you said yourself, he’s got...” “...a good heart,” he finished, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, he does. A good heart, and a brave one. He’d make a fine companion for any recruit - if 'tweren't for the crazy. But as he is now... who'd put up with him?” He shook his head. “Just why, why are all the wee ones so... so...” “Spirited?” He snorted. “Pig-headed. Anyway, lets see if we can get the buggering birdbrain down from there.” He turned his attention back to the diminutive bird atop the stables. “HEY! Shorty! OFF THE STABLE!” The bird looked at him curiously, blinking. “Kweh?” “Don’t you ‘kweh’ me, ya daft bird! You heard me! OFF!” His assistant grinned. “I’ll go get some feed - maybe that will help.” _____ He knew he wasn’t as tall as the other chocos. Or as strong. But he was smart. And he knew he was different for a reason. He didn’t know what that reason was yet, but he knew there was a reason. There had to be. So he waited. But that didn’t mean he was idle while he waited. Because he was smaller, and not as strong, sometimes he felt intimidated by the bigger, stronger chocobos. And he knew that would not do, for whatever was out there, waiting to be found. So he knew he needed to be braver than the other chocos. And even though he wasn’t as big or strong, he thought he could be as fast - or faster. So he challenged himself. Constantly. To be ready. He jumped. Jumped a lot. Jumped everywhere. Even when it annoyed all the bigger chocobos. Because he made him feel stronger. And taller. And he refused to be afraid of the bigger chocos. And he ran. Ran everywhere. Always racing, always challenging, always trying to be faster, faster, faster! And he refused to let the bigger chocobos outpace him. And he climbed! On top of everything, anything! Whenever he could, he’d look up at tall things, and try to figure out how to get atop them. And once there, he’d look down from high above, at all the other chocobos, and not be afraid of how high he was. Because he wasn’t like the other chocobos. He knew that. He had to be better. _____ The Lalafell followed the Elezen to the stables out back, where the chocobos were housed. She was slightly nervous, but excited as well. Her own chocobo! She wasn't a complete stranger to the birds, of course -- Mam was an herbalist and sometimes traveling merchant, and kept a pair of chocos for her wagon. But those had been big chocos, not meant for riding. At least, not by tiny Lalafells. But this chocobo would be sized right, the man had promised. "We breed 'em for every race, from Lala to Roeg, and everything in between." There was a little commotion around the corner, making her curious. As the stables came into sight, she saw a Hyur man and a Miqo'te woman looking upwards in apparent frustration. The little Lalafell turned her gaze upward, and blinked in surprise. "Ummm mister? Why is there a chocobo up on the roof?" The Elezen groaned, hand over his face, while the bird in question looked down at the newcomers curiously. "Kweh!" _____ He looked down at the two-legs below him, and blinked in surprise. One of them was short - so very short! He was amazed. Not even the ones who had trained him had been so small! The small one looked back up at him, her eyes blue and clear. Shining with purpose. He felt the pull of a kindred soul. _____ “Sorry, girly,” the burly Hyur said, rubbing the back of his neck somewhat sheepishly and laughing. “As you can see, he’s a bit rambunctious, that one. Rather fearless, he is. Spirited, too. None of the other Lalas who came through here could handle him” The Lalafell glanced at the man in askance. “Why? ‘S he a bad choco? One ta cause problems?” “Oh no,” he assured her, even as his assistants continued to try their best to tempt the bird down with some choice greens. The bird ignored them both, continuing instead to study the small woman intently. “Not exactly. He’s just spirited. Always wants to be the best, see? Run the fastest, jump the highest...” “...climb ta the top of stables?” she finished, one eyebrow raised, trying not to grin. “Yeah, that too,” he admitted. “But he’s a brave soul, is Shorty. And true. He just needs a chance to prove it.” “...and he’s the only small chocobo we got," added the miqo’te woman softly. "The rest are still weeks away from being ready.” “Yeah, that too,” her boss agreed reluctantly. “Maybe a month, give or take.” Tilting her head to the side a moment, she considered her options. Wait a few weeks -- maybe a month! -- or take her chances with this maverick of a bird. Who was still gazing down at her seriously, blinking as if in consideration himself. “Here, why don’t you see if he’ll come down for you,” he urged, handing her a whistle. “They’re trained to answer their master’s whistle - and each whistle is unique, hand-carved for that chocobo alone. Try blowing on this, see if he’ll answer to you.” After a brief hesitation, she took the whistle from him and studied it. It was a simple thing of polished wood, with two finger holes. He showed her the easy sequence of notes - easy enough to remember. She looked back up, meeting the little chocobo’s gaze, and blew the whistle. _____ He watched as she blew on the whistle, and started a little. He knew that whistle - it was his whistle. The one meant to call him to his master. Was this his master then? He wondered. She was so small - smaller than he was! If she weren’t careful, if the bigger chocobos came running at the whistle, they could step on her, squish her flat. No, he couldn’t let that happen! Resolutely, the small bird went to the side of the stable and jumped down, careful to avoid any obstacles. He quickly made his way to the one holding his summoning whistle. _____ “Well, seems he likes you,” the chocokeep chuckled, as he watched the young Lala pet the little chocobo. “So, what do you think? Willing to give him a try?” She continued to pet the bird, trying to think. There was something. Something in that look. In how he had just stood there, looking down, unwavering in his attention. Or maybe some feeling she was getting from him, some aethyric pulse of connection. Whatever it was, she nodded. “Alright, ‘m willing ta give him a try.” “I can promise you, he’ll not let you down,” the chocokeep assured her, motioning for his assistants to get the saddle and bridle ready for the new rider. “But ‘m not liking the name ‘Shorty.’ I’ll need some other name fer him.” He smirked. “Well, how about…” _____ “...Stalwart Soul?” the Elezen repeated somewhat incredulously, after the pair had rode safely away. “That little birdbrain? Really?” The miqo’te scoffed. “You really dun have no clue, do you, big-ears? The boss knows his birds, and he’s right - that one is brave, as little as he is.” “Brave or not, I could punt him across the ‘yard in one kick,” the Elezen countered. “HAH!” their boss barked, coming back from the gates. “You’d try, anyways. But he’d be too quick, I think. And his little master would probably hit you with her staff, before you could even try. Now," he paused a moment, voice becoming stern, "Why are you two gabbing, instead of working?" The pair scurried off, suddenly remembering other tasks that needed attending. _____ Newly renamed, the chocobo ran, following the directions of his new master. There was in his heart a new feeling, a warm feeling of purpose. She was smaller than him, his little master. Smaller, and to be protected. And that was what he’d do, no matter what. That was his purpose. He was Stalwart Soul. And he’d keep his master safe.

Different people have different thresholds as to what they consider "offensive." That's just life. Everyone has the right to their own opinions, and their own beliefs. Yes, the in-game text and story has mature subjects and the like - but as someone else pointed out, in different countries the game has different age "ratings." So, there are kids playing the game, and whether or not individual players feel that kids playing this game is appropriate, that fact is that they are. Individual LS's and FC's (both IC and OOC) can guide their groups however they want. If they intend to build a "family friendly" environment, then the mods or officers can curb language and subject matter to fit. Players can't control the language developers (or at least translators) put into the game, but they can try to control the language used in their player-created groups. IC'ly, my character Talathar doesn't use "colorful language" because it does not fit her personality as a fairly young, somewhat sheltered, kind-hearted and compassionate healer. She can lose her temper at people, or (try) to bully them for their own good, but she doesn't curse, and tends to avoid hurtful language. If she were to suddenly start cursing everywhere IC'ly in the LS's, I'm pretty sure her IC friends will be immediately concerned. She doesn't much care if/when others curse, unless it's excessive or hurtful. OOC'ly, I tend to ignore or overlook the little things, but will say something if things start getting a bit out there. Or I will remove myself from the situation completely. There's a lot of stuff in the world, and I can always find something better to do than listen to conversations that only make me uncomfortable - I have extended family holiday get-togethers where I am trapped in those kinds of situations already as it is!

Hallo Kida!

*glomps kitteh!*

There are some RPers who create a character and start playing the game before learning the lore - they like to find out from within the game itself what the world is like. These players may not realize that they are not following the naming conventions for their race until too late - still, that doesn't mean they aren't good roleplayers. My characters (all 2 of them on Gilgamesh so far) do not completely follow the naming conventions. Talathar Khalynn is a female Lalafell, and I dare say I roleplay pretty good. I know the name doesn't follow Lalafell naming rules, but my excuse is that she was an orphan with amnesia, raised by a Hyur woman after the Calamity. (In reality, I just wanted to use the name Talathar again... >_>)